


user 54244 added a song to a playlist you're following

by plaidnutmeg



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidnutmeg/pseuds/plaidnutmeg
Summary: In which Shuichi and Kokichi are childhood friends-turned-roommates in college, and Shuichi has a mystery admirer who updates a Spotify playlist regularly with songs they want Shuichi to listen to and pay attention to the lyrics of.(If that doesn't make sense try reading the first chapter, it's probably a little too complicated to outline in a vague work summary.)----updates should now be every other sunday night :) <3
Relationships: Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Iruma Miu/K1-B0, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 64
Kudos: 262





	1. boys like you - dodie

**Author's Note:**

> why Hello There! i texted the gc with the idea for this fic then wrote it anyway. i'll be updating this fic and the coffee shop one!  
> p.s. the spotify playlist link is actually a real one and i highly suggest yall like it like shuichi did so you can see it update along with the fic :)

_In the glorious age of the 21st century, music essentially ruled the world. At the click of a button, people could listen to thousands of songs; if someone paid a bit of money, they could hear millions. The consumer demographic for music was absolutely dominated by those in their 20s. College students and millennials alike lived for music. Of course, if humankind lived for music, they could not_ survive _without the internet itself._

Shuichi Saihara was no different. At the ripe old age of 19, the college student _fwumped_ down onto his apartment bed and opened his laptop. 

Yes, an apartment. Shuichi just happened to be the son of not only a famous actor, but also a famous movie director. Don’t get it twisted: Shuichi loved his parents. He just, loved them from afar. Very far, apparently, as they lived in America while Shuichi had stayed in Japan. 

His parents had left, and their money had stayed. His uncle had also stayed to take care of him, but he wasn’t good for much except poring over closed case files and signing permission slips. Shuichi didn’t mind the money. 

It was nice to be able to pay for his and Kokichi’s apartment during their second year of college. Kokichi worked part time and made it his duty to buy Shuichi food or clothes whenever possible. Shuichi knew the small boy well enough that it was because he felt bad for taking Shuichi’s hospitality without giving back, but Kokichi would never directly tell him that. It was okay though; Shuichi didn’t need to be told. 

He wouldn’t necessarily consider Kokichi his childhood best friend, but-

Actually, if anything, they started as childhood enemies. Their first year of middle school, Kokichi had been quite the prankster. Shiuchi had to hand it to him; Kokichi was very good at avoiding being caught. Eventually, though, Shuichi (ever the crime fighting whore) caught up to Kokichi’s antics. Although, if Kokichi hadn’t slipped up while mod podging Kaito’s locker shut by forgetting to take off his glue-stained scarf upon arriving at the cafeteria that day, Shuichi would have never had proof. 

During an overnight field trip, Kaito had ended up swapping Kokichi’s purple shampoo for purple dye. Instead of being angry at Shuichi for not saying anything about what Kaito did, Kokichi had begged Shuichi to help him finish the purple dye job before they had to go back home. Shuichi had complied, and thus began the chain of Shuichi standing over a kneeling Kokichi in a cramped tiled bathroom, dying the smaller boy’s hair purple. 

It was kind of hard to _not_ be friends after something like that. Kaito had gotten over it eventually. 

In the middle of high school, Kokichi had been completely disowned by his parents. To this day, Shuichi hadn’t asked why. He had simply accepted Kokichi’s story and allowed his friend to live in his house with him and his uncle. Living in an apartment together wasn’t much different. They just saw… more of each other. More dyeing sessions. (In fact, Kokichi had recently convinced Shuichi to dye his hair blue. 

At first, Shuichi hadn’t been sure how he felt about it, but he was almost sure it would have made his parents gasp in horror, so he decided he liked it. Kokichi had clapped excitedly at this.) More movie nights. More hours spent sitting in comfortable silence together. It was nice. 

If there _had_ to be a downside to living with Kokichi Ouma, it might have been his hoarding tendencies. It took Shuichi nearly three weeks to convince Kokichi that a 6’ cardboard cutout of their mutual friend Rantaro Amami was not a necessary addition to their apartment. When Kokichi had whined about Shuichi’s ex-girlfriend, Kaede, Shuichi had to stop and explain the difference between a real girlfriend being around the apartment a lot, and a rigid piece of paper that was printed to look like somebody who definitely was not dating Kokichi. 

In short, Kokichi had pouted until Shuichi brought home extra Panta to make up for the ‘injustice of Rantaro’s death’. Rantaro had been very confused to find a cardboard cutout of himself in his trash can. Otherwise, Kokichi was a joy to live with. Shuichi didn’t at all mind being woken up to gentle shakes from Kokichi, jonesing to show him a cat video from Tumblr. Nor did he mind Kokichi singing the latest pop song in the bathroom as he brushed his hair. It was always something new with Kokichi. Recently, Shuichi had been introduced by the boy himself to the wonderful world of Instagram, Twitter, and Pinterest. It was definitely one of Shuichi’s favorite things that he’d been introduced to by Kokichi.

Shuichi wasn’t _addicted_ to the internet. Sure, he knew his way around social media pretty well, but he was a newbie compared to his roommate. From the tender age of 9, Kokichi had pretty much free reign across the wonders of the internet, and upon meeting Shuichi in middle school, the shorter boy had not failed to show Shuichi everything he saw fit; disturbing things, funny things, sweet things. Kokichi Ouma got around.

The internet, that is.

Not that he got around in the way that the phrase usually implied. Shuichi would probably know, being his roommate and all. He put his face in his hands. Why did he think about things like this? Horrible horrible horrible horrible-

His computer dinged with a text.

[5:43] Kichi: _hey shu!! do u want anything from the sushi place near our house?_

[5:43] Kichi: _dinner time omnomnom >:) _

The blush from his previous thoughts slowly left his face as the aspiring detective typed out a quick response to his friend.

[5:44] Sent: _Sure, go ahead and get me anything._

[5:44] Sent: _Thanks, Kichi._

Shuichi watched the little typing bubbles pop up, signaling Kokichi’s impending response. If Kokichi Ouma was reliable about anything, it was replying right away.

[5:46] Kichi: _ofcofcofc !! anything for my shumai nishishi_

Shuichi watched the typing bubbles pop up again before a flurry of heart emojis colonized the screen. Shuichi laughed and typed out another response.

[5:46] Sent: _Dramatic. Anyway, I’m trying to set up that anonymous question site you told me about. I think I’ll try and link it to my Instagram._

[5:47] Kichi: _aaa!!_

[5:47] Kichi: _ok yea link it to ur ig bc u have like 31k followers there already_

[5:47] Kichi: _stupid famous emo detective :p_

Shuichi laughed out loud before typing back an indignant reply with a smile and shutting off his phone.

Okay. Down to business. As a criminal justice major, criminology minor, Shuichi Saihara figured it might be worth it to hear feedback from people who seemed to follow him on social media.

A few years ago, in high school, Shuichi had made it big in the world of solving crime. By ‘made it big’, Shuichi had actually solved a case that should never have been solved. He remembered sitting in the courtroom. Shuichi remembered his words going sour in his mouth as he realized the motive. He remembered the desperate, piercing _hatred_ of the convicted’s eyes… their eyes.

_The courtroom was a perfect temperature. Shuichi sat next to his uncle, wearing his shiny black tie and crisply ironed suit. He was a perfect foil to the man standing across from him._

_Desperate pleas from the defendant._ _Realizations-_ epiphanies _from Shuichi._

_Slowly but surely uncovering what had really happened._

_And then, all at once, after the final cries of justification from the witness confirmed his status as guilty, Shuichi knew._

_He understood._

_Shuichi had felt slightly nauseous upon the realization that he had just defended the murderer of this man’s family._

The public recognition he had received for solving the case made it even worse. Even Kokichi had understood after a few failed attempts to tease Shuichi about it that this was not something the detective could ever be proud of. Kokichi ended up leaving him alone about it, jokes turning to focus on the detective’s cap that Shuichi began wearing pulled down over his eyes. 

For a while, Kokichi had been the only one allowed to playfully flick up the rim and look into Shuichi’s dark eyes with a silly face. Until Kaede Akamatsu had come along and shot Shuichi through the heart with her musical cupid’s arrow. Looking back on their relationship, Shuichi may have been more in love with her music than Kaede herself. 

Cringing, Shuichi focused back on his computer. Now was not the time to taint his memories of Kaede with thoughts about the possibility that he hadn’t really loved her. No; right now he was supposed to be setting up the account. If Kokichi got home before Shuichi managed to set the account up, the teasing about Shuichi’s technological shortcomings would be vicious and lengthy. 

Username:

The cursor blinked back at Shuichi, who stared at the screen. He hadn’t thought much about this part. Should he just make it the same as his Instagram username, since that’s where it would be linked from? He decided to go with that. It’s not like future employers would look down on this kind of thing. If anything, it would be boosting his experience, in a way.

The new login screen smiled back at Shuichi.

_Hello user @detective.saihara, welcome to AnonymousQ! Please go to Settings >Profile to configure your account setup. _

Before Shuichi got to click anything else, there was a strained knock on the door. Sighing, Shuichi got up to go help Kokichi. Maybe he wouldn’t be teased at all, since he got his account basically set up. He might be able to use the excuse that personalization wasn’t a big deal for him. The knocking on the door got more insistent.

“Alright, I’m coming Kichi, I’m coming,” Shuichi grumbled loud enough for Kokichi to hear as he walked to the door. He pulled the door open to reveal Kokichi, holding a few bags.

“That’s what she said,” was the only reply he got from the purplenette before said boy pushed his way into the apartment. Shuichi rolled his eyes and took one of the larger bags from Kokichi. He opened it slightly and looked down at it’s contents.

“Oh, you went shopping? You didn’t have t-” Shuichi was cut off by Kokichi scoffing and pulling food out of the bags to set on the table.

“Shuddup Shu. Did you get that website thing pulled up?” Kokichi asked as he pulled out a chair. When Shuichi took a second to answer, Kokichi glanced back and gestured for him to come sit down at the table. Shuichi put the groceries on the counter before joining his friend at their little table.

“Yeah, I made an account,” he replied. Kokichi watched him blankly, as if waiting for Shuichi to say something else. Shuichi shifted in his chair, slightly uncomfortable.

“That’s it?” Kokichi gestured to Shuichi’s computer, “So if I go open that computer on the bed, it _won’t_ have a new login screen? It’ll be set up so you’re receiving messages?”

Shuichi’s eyes widened slightly, “...I have to set that part up?”

Kokichi groaned with a mouth full of food and dramatically leaned across the back of his chair.

“Yes, Shumai. You have to connect a fuckin’ email, or a, a _phone number_. So people can, y’know, actually send messages.”

“But I don’t want the messages to go to my email inbox or my text messages,” Shuichi said stubbornly. Kokichi threw him an exasperated look for a second before smiling widely (with food still in his mouth, Shuichi recognized with a cringe)

“I’ll help ya later,” Kokichi promised.

“Great. Also, don’t talk with your mouth full of food,” Shuichi responded quietly. 

Kokichi shoveled another bite of food into his mouth before responding, “Okay, Mom.”

\----

Instead of their usual Saturday movie nights on Shuichi’s bed, the aforementioned found himself sitting on the edge of the bed as the Kokichi set up his account for him.

“There you go, it should be linked. What’ll happen is you’ll-”

“Recieve a message through the site and be notified via text. Got it,” Shuichi yawned. Kokichi nudged him in the side and Shuichi yelped.

“What?? I know I’m right, I’m not _useless_ with technology,”

Kokichi rolled his eyes at the last part of Shuichi’s complaint.

“Actually, I was going to tell you to go to sleep earlier at night,” Kokichi prodded, “Wittle babys need theiw beauwty sweep.”

Shuichi’s mouth fell open in mock indignance. It was barely 7. He stood up on his knees slightly and let himself fall mercilessly on top of his roommate. Kokichi, now trapped underneath 5’9” of ‘emo bastard’, gave a shriek into the space between the light grey comforter and Shuichi’s torso, and tried to squirm out from underneath the taller boy.

“Ah yes, I agree Kichi. Wittle babies _should_ go to sweep, shouldn’t you?” Shuichi said to the air, ignoring the struggling boy beneath him. As soon as Shuichi stopped talking, Kokichi went limp.

“I _know_ you didn’t turn this into a short joke,” Shuichi’s victim said in a monotone muffled by Shuichi’s coat. Shiuchi said nothing and smiled triumphantly for all of 3 seconds before Kokichi dug his hands into the aspiring detective’s sides and started to tickle. Shuichi tumbled off of Kokichi to avoid the boy’s wiggling fingers as he giggled hysterically. Kokichi emerged from his smushed position and gasped dramatically for air. Shuichi rolled his eyes and Kokichi laughed genuinely. Shuichi smiled as he watched his roommate sparkle. 

Kokichi Ouma, to Shuichi’s knowledge, hadn’t had the greatest luck when it came to people. The short jokes were sparing, as they served as reminders to Shuichi (and surely Kokichi) that Kokichi’s height had been stunted by _something_. Shuichi had eventually deduced that the smaller boy had been a victim of abuse, somehow. Shuichi had never asked directly. The detective figured it was Kokichi’s right to decide when and who he told about his early life. Shuichi was perfectly content watching Kokichi get enough to eat at mealtimes and enjoy time in which the boy had nothing to be doing. It was also nice to have a friend who was always there. Not that Kaito was a bad friend! He just had other things to focus on: Maki and his goal of becoming an astronaut, to name a few. Besides, Shuichi and Kokichi, after getting over their differences in the early stages of their friendship, clicked. The friendship worked so well it was almost natural. Like soulmates, or something, Shuichi decided.

Shuichi shook himself out of his thoughts. Kokichi was pulling the computer closer and searching up movie titles. 

“How do you feel about Knives Out?” Kokichi asked, already clicking on the movie.

“I’ve heard nice things about that one. How long is it?” Shuichi replied.

“Mmmm, a little over 2 hours.”

“Sounds good, Kichi.”

Kokichi pushed the computer back like a TV screen. There was a large flatscreen in Shuichi’s room, across from the bed, but neither Shuichi nor Kokichi felt inclined to use it. At first, Kokichi had teased him about not taking advantage of it.

_“What, is it full of porn?” Kokichi snickered._

_Shuichi flushed._

_“No, come on. I tried watching a crime documentary on it but it felt too much like I was back at my parents’ house,” the bluenette protested._

_Kokichi kept silent at this and nodded slightly._

Now, as the opening credits started, Shuichi felt Kokichi shift a little closer to him. Almost like he was about to lean against him, but stopping at the last moment. Not that Shuichi would have minded either way. In fact, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Shuichi had long ago chalked it up to Kokichi being scared of initiating long periods of physical touch. It might make sense if Shuichi asked, but he wouldn’t. Not until Kokichi was ready to tell him independently. Kokichi’s head fell to the side and rested on the pillows. If he were an inch or two closer, he could have been resting his head on Shuichi’s shoulder. The movie started, and Shuichi stopped thinking about mindless things.

\----

Before he knew it, the credits were rolling. A little disappointed that he had guessed the culprit so early in the movie, Shuichi (like he usually did on Saturday nights) moved to turn on a different show. This time, it was a crime documentary that he had in mind. 

Kokichi was staring at the screen with an excited expression on his face. He turned to Shuichi.

“So? How long did it take you to figure it out? I knew from the beginning, to be honest,”

Shuichi scratched his head lightly and laughed.

“I uh, I figured it out around 20 minutes into the movie,” he responded.

“Man, you’re good. I was lying earlier, I didn’t know until the confes-”

“I know,” Shuichi cut him off, “because A) I can tell when you’re lying, and B) the investigation hadn’t even started at the beginning of the movie.”

Kokichi just smiled and leaned back into the pillows, turning his attention on the crime documentary. Shuichi watched him for a second or two before following suit.

\----

The second time credits rolled on Shuichi’s computer that night, he looked over to find Kokichi barely hanging onto consciousness. Shuichi scoffed gently and got up from the bed. He walked over and picked Kokichi up like a toddler and set him down on his feet.

“Can you walk to bed, or do you need me to carry you, Mr. Night Owl?” Shuichi said, exaggeratedly condescending.

Kokichi weakly swatted at the detective’s arms. 

“Shuddup, Saihara, your bed is just comfortable. Put me down. I’m going to sleep,” he grumbled, “only emo psychos are fine this late at night,” Kokichi added as he walked away to his own room. 

Shuichi laughed a little and shook his head with his hands on his hips, feeling slightly like a concerned mother. It _was_ nearly midnight.

He pulled his coat and button up shirt off as he walked into his bathroom. Shuichi looked at himself in the mirror for a second before shaking his hair and trying to muss it into a better position. Giving up, he uncapped his toothpaste and began to brush his teeth. After completing his extensive routine of: removing his eyeliner and washing his face with some nice-smelling face wash Kokichi insisted on buying him, Shuichi walked into his room and pulled on a light cotton t-shirt. He sat down on his bed with his phone. It would probably be a good idea to make some sort of post telling his followers about the anonymous question site. Shuichi brought his phone up to take a selfie of him sitting in bed, lit with the slight orange glow of his lamp. He looked at the photo for maybe 2 seconds before typing out his caption.

**_@detective.saihara_ ** _Hello everyone. I recently signed up for an account on AnonymousQ. My username there is the same as my username here, and I will put the link in my biography so you can access it. I’m looking forward to you guys’ questions and suggestions. Good night!_

Shuichi shut off his phone and put it on the nightstand. He shifted to lay under his covers and sighed in the lingering scent of Kokichi’s shampoo. Jeez, the guy even _smelled_ like purple. Tomorrow was Sunday. Shuichi had agreed to help Kaito and Maki move into their new apartment together. He had also convinced Kokichi to come help, which was a feat in and of itself. Kaito had been really excited, and by proxy Shuichi really hadn’t wanted to let him down. After all, Kaito and Maki were almost guaranteed to be engaged at some point or another. Preferably _before_ Kaito went to space, Maki had previously confided in him. They were supposed to be meeting the couple at their new place around 1pm. Knowing his own usual sleeping habits _especially_ on Sundays, Shuichi had to make the conscious choice to go to bed early. If midnight could be considered early. 

Shuichi’s groggy train of thought was interrupted by a small ping from his phone. As he went to turn his ringer on silent, a notification lit up his screen.

_AnonQ: You have received a new message._

A minimal amount of excitement ran through Shuichi’s veins as he opened the message on the mobile site.

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _OMG!!!!! i cant believe ur on this site this is so cool! youre totally my celeb crush ilysm hsfjklsdfj anyway goodnight_

Shuichi’s eyebrows furrowed and he laughed. Definitely not what he had expected his first message to be, but he shrugged the thought away and clicked his phone off again. Before he could respond to anyone, he needed sleep.

\----

Shuichi woke up to the smell of eggs and toast being made, and pans lightly clinking in the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. The clock smiled back at him with the time: 8:21am. Shuichi groaned before remembering the day’s commitment. He got out of bed reluctantly and pulled on the first pair of beaten sweatpants he found in his drawer. 

Shuichi walked into the bathroom and dragged his hands through his hair for the second time in less than 12 hours, except this time his goal was to make it stick up _less_. Stupid hair, never doing what he wanted. After washing his face and brushing his teeth, Shuichi collected his phone and trudged out to the dining room area. Kokichi was humming something that resembled tune while he made eggs with a ridiculous frilly red apron tied around his waist. Shuichi began to laugh but turned it into a cough as the cook himself turned around and smiled so largely that his eyes squinted. Shiuchi had half the mind to shield his eyes from the ball of sunshine that called itself Kokichi Ouma at (Shuichi looked at oven’s clock) 8:34am. 

“Hey Sleeping Beauty, how are you?” Kokichi asked brightly. 

Shuichi yawned loudly in response. 

Kokichi began to chat mindlessly as Shuichi set the table for both of them and served Kokichi’s toast + eggs. As they both sat down, Kokichi gestured to Shuichi’s phone.

“So, any messages so far?” he asked. Shuichi looked down at his phone in surprise.

“Oh wow, I actually forgot I set that up last night. Yeah, let me grab my computer so we can look through them together,” he mumbled. Kokichi smiled and gave a thumbs up while he chewed.

\----

Shuichi was very, _very_ confused. If you asked him about his IQ, or what grades he had received in high school, he would have told you that he was a very dedicated student with an extremely high comprehension rate. So now, scrolling through the 136 new notifications from the anonymous message site, for Shuichi Saihara to be so blatantly lost, was a rare occurrence.

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _Detective Saihara? More like Detective_ Daddy _._

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _do you do long distance relationships?_

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _I would love to take you on a date where we looked at fish together in the rain._

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _What would it take to get u to add me back on snap :kawaii eyes:_

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _damn bro that eyelinerrrr… permission to simp??_

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _Per favore, abbi i miei figli_

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _if u were a mermaid or even like,, a fish, youd be so cute. im in love w u_

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _ahHHhHhH you’re like an angle you fell from the skyyyy_

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _ngl the way u solved that case was hot af u could step on me and id apologize, pay u, then beg for more._

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _Excuse me sir… marriage?_

  
  


**_Anonymous said:_ ** _please please please plsepeaseplseplpease say you’re singleeee i need to know if i have a Chance_

“Why are they all…” Shuichi gestured to the computer as Kokichi silently scrolled through the messages.

“Thirsty, Saihara. The word you’re looking for is _thirsty,_ ” Kokichi said with a strange expression.

“Okay, why am I suddenly Saihara? It’s not like I asked for them to say these things. I thought people would be more interested in… I don’t know. My line of work?” Shuichi asked, turning to Kokichi.

Kokichi didn’t respond, his eyes still glued to the computer. He pointed to one of the messages.

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _damn your so fucking hot i litaraly cant beleive it_

“I’m almost embarrassed for these people. It’s definitely a blessing that this site has anonymity. I don’t think you’d be able to look _anyone_ in the eye again after this,” Kokichi finally said quietly.

Shuichi blinked and watched some of the messages scroll past slowly before he began to laugh softly. Kokichi looked over at him and watched Shuichi dissolve into laughter before joining him.

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _PLEASE YOU COULD STAB ME AND ID APOLOGIZE_

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _you remind me of a fish,, because you’re the only one in the sea for me ;)_

Shuichi’s mouth fell open and he continued to laugh in horror at some of the messages. He pulled the computer out of Kokichi’s grasp and ignored Kokichi’s whine in favor of looking at some of the earlier messages. He stopped on one specific message that caught his eye.

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _Ok this might be really weird but I’m gonna ask anyway: do you swing both ways? I know your following is mostly girls but I’m going to be honest and tell you that I was wondering if it was okay for me, a gay guy (I’m in my early 20s), to be following you because I think you’re really attractive?_

Shuichi read over the message a couple times before laughing softly. 

“I actually haven’t thought about that stuff very much. I guess I just haven’t had time. I’m not actually sure if I’m attracted to girls exclusively,” he looked over at Kokichi, who’s face had gone carefully blank, “is that okay? Like, if that’s weird I won’t keep thinking about it. Sorry Kichi,” he amended.

Kokichi cleared his throat and looked at the message again.

“Nah, it’s chill. He seems pretty into you though,” Kokichi dismissed hoarsely.

Shuichi scrunched his nose, “I’ve never even met the guy, I don’t think I should be actively thinking about what he said-”

“He made you question your sexuality before you even replied,” Kokichi pointed out.

Shuichi thought for a moment.

“I don’t think he ‘made me question my sexuality’ Kichi. It’s probably more that I haven’t been thinking about dating since Kaede. I mean, I used to think about this a lot in high school. I’m like, 99% sure that I used to have a crush on Kaito,” Shuichi paused and looked up in thought, “Maybe I’ll respond to him. What do you think?”

For a few seconds, there was only the sound of the computer buzzing softly and Kokichi’s breath.

“You might want to respond to a couple other people who aren’t too horny as well. Just so it doesn’t look super sus,” Kokichi swallowed before looking at Shuichi, “and if you’re worried at all about how I’m gonna react to your sexuality or whatever, don’t be. I think you’re perfect no matter who you like.”

With that, Kokichi got up, and walked to his bedroom. Shuichi relaxed in relief and mulled over how he would respond to the guy. After a couple seconds he clicked ‘Reply’ and started to type out a response.

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _Ok this might be really weird but I’m gonna ask anyway: do you swing both ways? I know your following is mostly girls but I’m going to be honest and tell you that I was wondering if it okay for me, a gay guy (I’m in my early 20s), to be following you because I think you’re really attractive?_

|

|

|

 **_@detective.saihara:_ ** _Hello, anon. I haven’t ever really used labels to define my sexuality, but if I needed to explain it in some way, I’d most likely say that I’m not exclusively attracted to women. I hope that answers your question._

Shuichi watched the little cursor blink for a couple seconds before clicking ‘Send’. It briefly occurred to him that people might unfollow him for his honesty, but at that point Shuichi couldn’t find it in him to care. He watched the little wheel cycle through, ‘Posting’, ‘Finishing up’, and ‘Posted’. He wiggled his cursor around for a little bit before he resumed searching for any messages containing anything about his detective work. After a little while, he started to find some.

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _Have you ever been scared while working a murder case?_

Shuichi clicked ‘Reply’ and started to form a response. He hadn’t necessarily been scared of the murder case itself, it had been more that he was scared that he would solve another case that didn’t need to be solved. After typing out an appropriate reply, Shuichi clicked ‘Send’. He scrolled through the rest of the replies, blushing slightly at some of the more shameless messages. Anonymity was a beast. 

Before Shuichi got to the bottom of the message list, the page reloaded and blinked with a little arrow pointing to the top, saying ‘13 New Messages’. Shuichi clicked it, hoping it might be a change in attitude from the previous responses. 

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _yoooo im so glad you arent straight :tongue out:_

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _U LIKE BOYS IM A BOY I HAVE A CHANCE_

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _ew lmao ur_ gay _? that’s kinda nasty._

Shuichi frowned slightly at some of the more angry responses to his post. Before he was able to figure out how to reply, the page reloaded again. ‘1 New Message’. 

**_Anonymous said:_ **

_https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4iY6BwKwnCvTYkWmSaZ7tS?si=O5PPeEOJRdCFdjBHYbQe8g_

Shuichi paused at this. A Spotify link? 

Shuichi clicked it, holding his breath for it to appear with a raunchy or aggressive rap song. The detective was pleasantly surprised and also mildly confused. The playlist was titled ‘to mr. detective’ and contained one song. 

Shuichi clicked the song, and dodie’s voice filled the room softly. Shuichi looked up the lyrics of the song, per the anonymous playlist owner’s request. The creator of the playlist had an account named ‘user54244’. Very generic, Shuichi decided. Maybe this person didn’t want people finding their music. 

He liked the playlist anyway, out of curiosity. It seemed strange for the person to have made a playlist instead of just linking a certain song. Maybe they had planned on adding more, but decided not to? It was strange. Shuichi focused on the lyrics of the song. He found himself paying more attention to the admissions in the song than he did to the messages from the other anonymous followers. It was a nice break from random horny keysmashes. 

Before Shuichi knew it, the song was over. He went to click back on the tab for AnonQ when a now fully-dressed-for-a-day-of-moving-boxes Kokichi came up behind him and leaned on the back of his chair.

“What was that, Shu?” Kokichi asked, looking at the playlist.

Shuichi pushed the back of his head into Kokichi’s chest, “Uhhh somebody sent a playlist anonymously. It had a single song on it, and they said to listen to it while reading the lyrics.”

Kokichi pulled and messed with Shuichi’s hair absently, “So did you?”

“Yeah. It was a love song. I thought it was interesting. Why would she make a whole playlist?”

Kokichi let go of the blue hair and moved away from Shuichi, looking out the window.

“I dunno, Shu. Maybe they’ll add more,” he said, uncharacteristically quiet.

Shuichi shrugged awkwardly even though Kokichi couldn’t see him. 

“Regardless, we should get going to Kaito’s. It might be good to get there a little early.”

Kokichi looked back with a smile plastered on his face.

“Oooh! I can’t wait to make their first memories in their new apartment be ones of me pissing them off!”

Shuichi rolled his eyes before responding, “If you do anything out of line, there will be consequences.”

Kokichi made an exaggerated surprised face, “Eek, Shumai’s _scary_ when he’s serious!” Shuichi mock-glared at the bouncing Kokichi as he tried to fix his hair before pulling his hat off it’s little hook. Kokichi grabbed his keys from the counter before swiping the hat out of Shuichi’s hands and skipping out the front door.

“I’m driving!” the smaller boy called as the door closed, leaving Shuichi in silence in the apartment. Shuichi blinked before going to put on a better change of clothes than his nightwear.

\----

On the way to Kaito and Maki’s apartment, Shuichi hummed the song from the anonymous message site over the sound of the road.

“Whatcha singing?” Kokichi asked.

Shuichi stopped humming to respond, “Ah, the song from earlier is stuck in my head. Can I play it? It was actually a pretty good song.”

Kokichi swallowed, “Sure. Is it on your phone?”

“Yeah, I liked the playlist so it should show up in my feed,” Shuichi said as he opened the app. He clicked the playlist and the lyrics immediately filled the car. 

Kokichi tapped along to the song’s beat and Shuichi hummed along, quietly on-key. Shuichi looked out of the passenger’s window and watched the world blur into singular colors as the car drove on.

After the song finished, Kokichi let out a deep breath and the playlist started to cycle through related music. A couple songs later, they arrived at the apartment. Kaito waved at them from in front of the apartment complex. Shuichi waved back while Kokichi parked on the side of the street.

Shuichi took a deep breath. Maybe today would be more normal than it had began? Knowing his friends, Shuichi didn’t put too much hope into that thought.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5.7k words of dense but domestic shuichi saihara? yeah<3  
> if i made a discord would u join it?  
> \----  
> my tumblr: plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com  
> my ask box is always open: https://plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com/ask


	2. best friend - rex orange county

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving, lunch date, homework <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back and its midnight but hnfdgdhgknfd here have another chapter  
> <3  
> school be kicking my booty  
> pls excuse grammatical errors this was proofread at 12:00am by me and me only 

The sun warmed the old black t-shirt on Shuichi’s back as he and Kokichi stepped onto the curb in front of Kaito and Maki’s new apartment. The pathway leading to the door was a a few stepping stones of square concrete with flowing water below them. The path was lined by green plants, and the water flowed underneath the apartment door into what looked like a pond just in the entryway. The apartment had large glass windows on the street-facing wall. 

Kokichi must have been thinking the same thing as Shuichi as they walked up to the house, because the former jammed his hands in his pockets and whistled lowly at the sight. Shuichi just coughed lightly and Kaito, who was standing with his hands on his hips in front of the moving truck’s gaping maw, turned around with an excited expression. It fell slightly when it saw Kokichi. For Shuichi’s sake, Kaito and Kokichi shook hands and smiled warmly at each other. 

Maki then stepped out of the apartment to beckon them inside, and the three boys made their way up the stone steps to the entryway. (A few years ago Kaito would have wiped his hand off on his jeans after shaking Kokichi’s hand. Now, he doesn’t. Kaito pats himself on the back for this. Shuichi doesn’t wanna know.) If Shuichi thought that the outside of their apartment was nice, he wasn’t prepared for the inside. The ceiling was incredibly high, there was a chandelier hanging from the top, a staircase with a gorgeous railing, and perfectly polished wooden tile all across the apartment.

“Damn Maki, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were an assassin or something. One of you must make  _ bank _ ,” Kokichi crowed. Maki rolled her eyes.

Shuichi had met Kaito in middle school, and Maki in high school. Shuichi had lived up to his reputation in middle school to an extent. The creepy, weird emo who kept tabs on everybody. Not that he was school-shooter-y. At least, Shuichi hoped he wasn’t. Kokichi just laughed whenever Shuichi brought it up, which didn’t necessarily make Shuichi feel better. 

Regardless, Shuichi had known that Kaito sat across the room from him, answered questions with a lot of gusto regardless of whether he had the right answer or not, and was almost always the first one to volunteer for demonstrations in P.E. Kaito was popular. The girls loved him, and Shuichi knew a couple of guys that wouldn’t mind dealing with the jock, persay. 

Shuichi had been comfortable in his little niche of observation for about two months, until Kaito was partnered with him for P.E. and they hit it off immediately. And by hit it off, it was more along the lines of Kaito asking Shuichi questions and Shuichi trying to respond the best he could without passing out from the strain on his carefully nurtured social anxiety. By the end of the class, Kaito had drawn Shuichi so far out of his shell that Shuichi was actually giving answers with enough information for Kaito to ask follow-up questions from. Kaito was popular for a  _ reason _ . 

From that day on, Kaito always requested to be partnered with Shuichi, and Shuichi didn’t mind because hey, it was less stressful than working with someone who thought he might bring a gun to school if they said one wrong thing. Where other kids tiptoed around Shuichi and his dark clothes, baseball hat, and wide eyes, Kaito welcomed him and drew him closer. 

Where Shuichi lacked the brawn, Kaito lacked the brains. They made up for each other’s weaknesses with ease. The perfect duo, Shuichi had thought. Until high school. Alternatively, you could say that Shuich had been the first to split his interests between the determined, physically powerful Kaito and a bouncing head of purple hair with a compulsive lying complex, but Shuichi didn’t like to look at it that way. Shuichi had found another friend. Kaito had found  _ Maki _ . 

Looking back on it, Kaito must have had some sort of pension for making friends with the quiet kids. Oddly enough, Kaito had not found Maki in P.E. class. Rather, he had met Maki through Shuichi. In a way. Actually, Kaito would wait outside Shuichi’s accelerated math class right before lunch for the first half of freshman year, just to see Maki walk out and try to make eye contact with her. He  _ swore _ he waited for Shuichi, but the emo was skeptical. He was also rightfully so, seeing as once Maki and Kaito started dating within the next six months, Kaito no longer had reasons to wait for  _ Shuichi _ . Not that Shuichi minded; it was nice to see Kaito happy. 

Shuichi wasn’t alone, either. He had Kokichi, and once Kaito had gotten over the fact that Kokichi and Shuichi clicked so well, the four of them spent an indescribable amount of time together. Maki and Kaito had gone to junior prom (and senior prom)  _ together _ , while Shuichi and Kokichi had ‘gone to junior prom together’. (Kokichi had begged Shuichi for permission to make a large gaudy sign and have confetti canons, but Shuichi, ever avoidant of the public eye, had refused absolutely.) 

It was really sweet to have watched Kaito and Maki’s relationship evolve from a freshman relationship to a high school sweethearts situation, in which they were now engaged to be married. Shuichi didn’t necessarily need something like that. Sure, he’d met a transfer student in junior year and dated her for three years. That was over now though. Besides, Shuichi had been almost codependent in that relationship, and his other friendships had suffered. 

Somehow, Kokichi and Shuichi had drifted farther apart than they had since middle school while Shuichi was dating Kaede. It might have had something to do with the fact that Kokichi always happened to be gone when Shuichi brought Kaede home, and given her a spare key to the apartment he ended up sharing with Kokichi. 

If Shuichi didn’t know any better, he would have asked Kokichi why Kaede’s presence seemed to take such a large mental toll on the him. While Shuichi fell into a slump after the ‘breakup’, Kokichi had improved drastically. Shuichi didn’t like to think about it; his relationship with Kaede was not a thing he would like to tarnish with negative analysis. 

Regardless of what had happened their freshman year of college, Kokichi and Shuichi were now closer than ever. Plus, they had Kaito and Maki keeping them on their toes with new announcements like an upcoming  _ wedding _ . Shuichi opened his mouth to bring said wedding up in conversation before he saw himself faced with a room full of mismatched furniture. 

Kaito gave his signature thumbs-up, “Alrighty, we’re gonna have to move these things all around. Everything on the first floor should stay on the first floor, and likewise with the second floor,”

Kokichi groaned, “Aw man, I was looking forward to showing off my manly strength by carrying Maki’s arsenal of assassination weapons up the staaaairs.”

Maki wacked Kokichi across the back of the head lightly.

“Do you wanna die,” she said flatly. Kokichi rubbed his head and whined something about abusive tendencies before retreating back next to Shuichi. Soon enough, Kaito and Shuichi were lifting a couch to bring into the living room space. Shuichi was glad when the awkward shuffle stopped and they placed the couch by the wall. 

In a way, Shuichi was proud of himself for being able to pull his weight. Not that he was super scrawny anymore, like he was in high school. Shuichi had actually built a  _ little _ bit of muscle because Kaito dragged him to the gym weekly. 

Honestly, Kaito had decided to start bringing Shuichi along on his gym trips because the former had gotten sick of Shuichi’s complaints about how Kokichi never gained weight, regardless of how much soda he drank. Kokichi was also quite in shape, being a kinesiology major, but Shuichi was more jealous of his metabolism than his physical habits. Shuichi was the kind of person who could drink water and wake up the next day with a little bit of stomach pooch. Weekly trips to the gym usually kept him in shape, though. 

In short, Shuichi was never going to be  _ built _ like Kaito, but he worked out anyway to keep up with Kokichi’s unbelievable metabolism. It was a careful balance, and yet Shuichi thrived off of general structure. 

Before Shuichi knew it, the room of furniture had been organized, and the furniture had been placed around the first floor. Kokichi was the first to make it upstairs in leaps and bounds. Maki watched him with a smile, and when Kaito joked about him ‘tripping and falling on his ass’, Maki quietly asked Kaito if he ‘wanted to die’. Shuichi liked his friends. He liked them a lot.

“What’s with this  _ gaudy _ ass couch, Momota?” Kokichi called from the room he had disappeared into. Kaito and Maki entered the room, with Shuichi following them close behind. When Shuichi entered the room, he immediately knew what Kokichi was talking about. His eyes were drawn like magnets to a 70’s style couch with a crimson, yellow, green, and tan floral pattern on every inch of it. Shuichi had to admit, it was quite the eyesore. 

“Does this thing have like, emotional significance or…?” Kokichi looked between Kaito and Maki, “Because I seriously cannot think of another reason you might keep a couch this nasty.”

Kaito scratched his head and looked around at the other furniture, while Maki twisted her hair around her fingers and looked down. Kokichi just continued to look back and forth between them with an incredulous expression. After a few seconds, Kaito cleared his throat.

“I mean, it’s a pretty comfortable couch. It’s practical too. You can like, lay down on it. And stuff,” Kaito said choppily. Kokichi just raised his eyebrows. The realization hit Shuichi like a ton of bricks, and Kokichi had the physical reaction for him. The purplenette’s mouth dropped open and he began to laugh in a myriad of emotions. Triumph, discomfort, disbelief,  _ schadenfreude _ .

“You guys fucked on this couch,” Kokichi stated. Maki and Kaito whipped their heads to Kokichi with wide eyes. Kokichi may not have been a detective like Shuichi (who was watching this exchange in mild horror, but not much surprise), but the way neither Kaito nor Maki denied his statement was clearly not lost on him.

“Holy shit. Holy sh-” Kokichi howled with laughed. He leaned on a dressed in the middle of the room, “I’m not touching that fu- fucking couch. Literally. It’s literally a fucking cou- I’m done. Shuichi, let’s go grab boxes from the moving van.”

Even Kaito, who was typically shameless in these situations, was bright red. The couple didn’t say anything against Kokichi as he burrowed his hand into Shuichi’s sleeve and pulled him out the door, wiping tears with his other hand. Well, Shuichi was pretty sure Maki was staring daggers at Kokichi but he couldn’t be too sure, with the speed at which Kokichi managed to get him outside. They practically flew down the stairs out to the moving truck, thanks to Kokichi. Once they reached the edge of the truck, Kokichi collapsed against Shuichi in a fit of laughter. Shuichi flinched slightly but instinctively supported Kokichi in a hug. 

The smaller boy shook against him and weakly pounded his fist against Shuichi’s chest while he heaved in mirth. This continued for about 30 seconds before Shuichi dropped one of his hands lightly on top of Kokichi’s hair and gently moved Kokichi’s head back to look up at him.

“They’re probably gonna be pissed off when we get back,” Shuichi grumbled. Kokichi calmed down enough to respond after a few seconds.

“ _ They _ have nothing to say against me. They fucked on the couch Shuichi. They-” Kokichi chugged his elbows back and forth to look like dry humping. Shuichi rolled his eyes and caught Kokichi’s arms.

“Yeah, and they’re getting  _ married _ soon. I’m not a virgin either. I don’t see why it matters,” Shuichi said in half exasperation half amusement.

“Ew, I don’t need to hear about my roommate’s sex life. It was bad enough having that fake blonde bitch around our apartment constantly. I don’t wanna hear about your escapades in  _ bed _ now,” Kokichi groaned. Shuichi fought back the urge to argue.

“We aren’t having this conversation right now. Jeez, you’re like, a jealous girlfriend or something. Anyway, we should bring some boxes back and if you’re not going to apologize, at least don’t prod the subject. Okay, Kichi?”

Kokichi didn’t respond, he just stood with his arms relaxed in Shuichi’s grip.

“Kichi?” Shuichi repeated. Kokichi looked up.

“I’m not a jealous girlfriend. I just didn’t like her Shuichi. I’m not saying I’m happy about what happened, but I think you’re better off without her. There was no love there, Shu,” Kokichi said quietly,  _ seriously _ . Alarm bells rang in Shuichi’s head. They were not about to discuss this in front of Kaito and Maki’s new apartment.

“Look, Kichi. You’re probably right. Please, can we just, not have this conversation right now? I don’t want to get into an argument. I promise we can discuss it later. It’s just…” Shuichi took a breath, “This is the first time we’ve actually sort of brought it up in almost a year, and I don’t want it to be right  _ here _ . Please understand, Kokichi.”

Kokichi looked down quickly, like he didn’t want to see Shuichi upset.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I just hate this subject,” Kokichi sighed. Shuichi didn’t really have to wonder  _ why _ Kokichi hated it. If Kokichi had not been around when Kaito started dating Maki, Shuichi would have been basically back on his own. Not that  _ Shuichi _ minded, though. Kokichi, however, thrived off of social interaction, and it must have taken a toll on him when his closest friend was suddenly spending all his time with a third party. Kaede never really seemed to like Kokichi, either. 

With that, Kokichi pulled his arms from Shuichi’s grip and raced up the ramp into the truck.

“Whoever can carry more boxes up without dropping ‘em is a winner winner chicken dinner!” Kokichi yelled, his excited voice echoing around the truck.

“What are you, five?” Shuichi huffed, running up the ramp anyways. He wasn’t a  _ loser _ .

“No, but that’s probably the amount of boxes I can hold!”

\----

“You must be pretty excited to get married, huh?” Shuichi asked as he and Kaito walked down the ramp with the last two boxes in their hands. Kaito looked at him for a moment before setting his box down gently and running his hands through his hair.

“Dude. It’s all I can think about. I,” Kaito exhaled, “I love her so much.”

Shuichi smiled, “I think that’s all that matters.” Kaito nodded, and picked up his box again. By the time they got into the house, Kokichi and Maki had already organized the boxes into sections.

“Looks like Maki Roll is living up to her babysitter title,” Kaito teased. Maki rolled her eyes.

“Do you wanna die.”

Kokichi laughed.

“I was telling Harukawa-chan about your anonymous site here, Shuichi,” Kokichi said, glancing over at the detective. Shuichi flushed slightly.

“Were they really all that thirsty?” Maki asked.

Shuichi scratched his head, “Yeah, they were pretty crazy. Most of them were probably trolls though.”

Maki looked at Kokichi intensely for a moment. Shuichi and Kaito went to put their boxes down.

“Must’ve been difficult to look through all those,” Maki said quietly. Kaito and Shuichi looked back to see her looking at Kokichi still, who shrugged and laughed a little.

“I feel like it was probably harder on Shuichi here,” Kaito laughed, dropping his hand on Shuichi’s shoulder. Shuichi flinched slightly under the sudden weight, but otherwise nodded. Maki blinked then rolled her eyes and looked at Kokichi. Kokichi smiled and made brief eye contact with Maki before looking down. It was like they were communicating in another language.

“A- am I missing something here?” Shuichi asked.

“Nope!” Kokichi beamed, popping the ‘p’. 

Kaito groaned, “It’s like you’re one of Maki’s girl friends. You guys are definitely telepathic,” he looked at Shuichi, “Do you guys want to stay for lunch? Maki Roll and I were gonna order food, since, y’know, our appliances aren’t completely set up yet.”

It was Kokichi who responded.

“Actually, I was gonna take Shu out to lunch.” Shuichi looked over at Kokichi with slightly raised eyebrows, but didn’t object.

“Alrighty man, sounds good. Hey, thanks for helping us out today. We really appreciate it,” Kaito said genuinely.

Kokichi smiled at Kaito and winked at Maki.

Shuichi cleared his throat, ever awkward, “It was no problem, really. I’d be glad to help you guys move in any day! Not that you’re gonna be moving in every day, just. Y’know-”

“Alright Shumai, let’s go before you embarrass yourself any more than you already have, dearest one,” Kokichi said as he pushed Shuichi out the door. Laughs were exchanged, last second ‘goodbyes’ were called, and then the roommates were descending the stairs. They walked in comfortable silence until they reached Shuichi’s car. Shuichi handed Kokichi the keys.

“I’m assuming you wanna drive, since you’re the one who suggested this ‘improvised outing’,” Shuichi said.

Kokichi rolled his eyes, “Is it so weird to wanna take you out to lunch? And it wasn’t impromptu, actually. I’d been planning to do this the whole time.”

Shuichi huffed out a laugh, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you only came to help today because you wanted to get me alone after helping our friends, oh Phantom Thief.”

Kokichi smirked at Shuichi and glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes.

“Oh no, dearest detective. We left early so that your cohorts could have their alone time to, how do you say… ‘e-fuck on le couche’?” Kokichi overdramatically pronounced the faux French. Shuichi scrunched his eyes shut and laughed through his smile. When he looked up, Kokichi was glancing at him with a smile.

“But really, I thought I’d take you to that place at the mall you really like. Is that okay?” Kokichi asked, eyes on the road.

Shuichi leaned back, “That sounds perfect, Kichi. How could I say no to spending time with my best friend?”

Kokichi’s smile widened.

\----

The mall wasn’t very large, but it had a relatively nice food court and a crisp atmosphere. Shuichi liked the way the air felt and how the volume was never too loud. Kokichi liked that it rekindled his childhood urges to run around like a maniac. He voiced this thought to Shuichi.

Shuichi put his hands in his pockets as they walked towards the panini place, “You were a leash child, weren’t you.”

Kokichi gave a dramatic gasp and feigned falling over, taking a few steps to catch his balance before he fell too far, and wailed, “You would me Shuichi. Not that you’re wrong, but your words still cut deep.”

“Like a leash keeping you, a child, from running away? Yeah,” Shuichi snorted. Kokichi just laughed. It was nice, going to lunch with him. Shuichi was glad they’d done this.

The restaurant came into view, and a girl waved at them from behind the counter. 

“Hi! Welcome to Hydraulic Paninis! We press so you can taste test! Can I getcha anything?” she rattled off with enthusiasm.

Kokichi smiled warmly at her, and Shuichi resisted the urge to pull his hat down. Kokichi stepped up in front to order first.

“You know what would be absolutely divine?” Shuichi inwardly groaned at Kokichi’s grandeur, “A crab salad panini on whitebread, with eggs, mozzarella cheese, avocado, and cucumbers.” The girl nodded as she took down Kokichi’s order with a smile, then looked at Shuichi.

“U-Uh, hi. Um. I’ll get a,” Shuichi blinked hard and broke eye contact, “I would like sourdough bread, with cheddar, zucchini, bell pepper, cucumber, spinach, avocado, and ketchup.” If the cashier noticed anything weird about the order, she didn’t show it, and walked over to ring them up at the end of the counter. Shuichi took a deep breath, and by the time he got to the cash register, Kokichi had already pulled out his wallet. Shuichi knew better than to protest against Kokichi paying.

“Alright guys, I’ll bring your order out to your table if you just take this number!~” The cashier smiled kindly after she gave both of them their fountain drink cups. Shuichi shakily thanked her (he was getting better at this, okay? It also helped to have Kokichi there. For some reason. Shuichi didn’t dwell on it.) and they left the counter.

“Hey, how about that table over there?” Shuichi asked, pointing at a little table near the edge of the open courtyard. 

“Sure thing, Shumai,” Kokichi said without glancing away from the Panta dispenser. Not that he needed to;  they always sat at that table. Shuichi just asked out of habit.

Once they’d both gotten their respective drinks (Panta for Kokichi, obviously, and sweet tea for Shuichi), the two sat at their table.

“How are your classes going?” Kokichi asked after taking a sip of his drink.

Shuichi groaned into his sweet tea, “My professor is the  _ worst _ at lecturing. It’s way too scary to ask a question. Or maybe it isn’t, and I’m the only one in the class who can’t get a grip on corrections of foundations. If the other students don’t get it either and  _ still _ aren’t asking questions, my grade for the first term is screwed.”

Kokichi’s eyebrows pulled together, “Wait, why? I thought you were doing pretty well with the first couple units?”

“She assigned us a group projects with randomized groups, and I got stuck with some guy who’s just done with life. He went on some monologue about how he’s trying to atone for his past of being a ‘criminal’ by studying criminal justice. It was just weird and unnerving. Nobody else really talks or seems to get the material, so if I want a solid grade I’m gonna have to lead,” Shuichi shuddered.

Kokichi put his Panta back down on the table and swallowed, “Well, if you ever need any real life practice, I could always go rob a liquor store and see how long it takes for you to figure out it was me.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes, “You’re not going to jail just for me to get an A in a class. It wouldn’t even help, anyway.”

Kokichi shrugged, “Alright, but you don’t know if it would help or not. You’ve never tried it.”

Shuichi grumbled in fond exasperation as an employee brought out their paninis. After a brief ‘enjoy your meal and let me know if I can help’ speech, Shuichi and Kokichi were alone again. Immediately after the employee left, Kokichi wrinkled his nose.

“I still can’t believe you order ketchup  _ in _ the panini. Can’t you like, dip it or something? Kinda hurk,” Kokichi said in a semi-serious tone.

Shuichi just stared levelly at Kokichi while he took a large bite out of his cooked-ketchup filled panini.

“Maniac,” Kokichi whispered before taking a bite of his own sandwich.

“Yeah yeah,” Shuichi waved him off.

Kokichi delicately unfolded his napkin and dabbed at his face with hyperbolic precision.

“So, have you just not made any friends in this class yet? You’ve always been  _ so _ good at that,” Kokichi said playfully.

Shuichi’s shoulders dropped, “I was getting better at making friends, but I don’t know. This year’s been kind of difficult. After… y’know.” His voice trailed off.

Kokichi gave him a quizzical look. Shuichi looked away, and flinched when he heard Kokichi’s hand hit the table, controlled but firm.

“Okay Saihara. We’re bringing this up, here and now. No copouts this time. Your ex-girlfriend died from breast cancer. She’s not your responsibility, though. You guys aren’t together anymore. Let’s talk about it,” Kokichi said in a serious tone that did not fit his usual demeanor.

Shuichi swallowed and nodded, letting his head fall down so that he was looking at the table.

“You’re right, Kichi,” he said quietly, “It’s just been kind of difficult. I still miss her sometimes, and I feel guilty about it.”

Kokichi pressed his lips into a thin line, “You’re allowed to miss her. What you shouldn’t be doing is letting her control how you live the rest of your life.”

Shuichi didn’t know what to say to that. 

Kaede Akamatsu had been a clarity point in a part of his life where he didn’t know where to turn next. Shuichi was Jay Gatsby, the public eye was his fortune, and Kaede Akamatsu was the little green light that told him he was worth something more than solving cold cases. 

Shuichi was a 16 year old kid dealing with a sudden intrusion on his life called the press, and Kaede was the beautiful transfer student that asked him about what kind of music he liked, and not what it felt like to be on the nightly news. He kissed her in an empty piano room the third time she took him there to play music for him. The song she played that day was Clair de Lune. Shuichi never forgot it. 

Kaede stuck with him through high school and for the most part of college freshman year. Kaede had been his everything. All of his first, and when she died, he thought that she would be all of his lasts. Slowly, though, he recovered. It didn’t take a detective to realize that their relationship wasn’t too healthy by the 3rd month. Kaede had been his everything, and she had made sure to  _ stay  _ that way.

Time spent with Kokichi and Kaede dwindled down to whenever Kaede herself had other plans. Kaede almost never had other plans. When Kokichi and Shuichi moved in together for college, Kaede had practically moved in as well. Shuichi didn’t mind being slowly suffocated by her, as long as he was enough. Months and months after the fact, he was starting to see improvements in himself that he never would have gotten to witness if Kaede was still there. 

In a way, Kokichi had helped him recover more than Kaede. Sure, Kaede had helped him take his mind off of the public by monopolizing his time, his body, and his friendships, but Kokichi had shown Shuichi that it was alright to be whoever the hell you were. 

The more Shuichi openly thought about it, the more he realized he wouldn’t go back to Kaede, even if she was still here. Not that she would ask. Kaede Akamatsu had died of breast cancer a few months after she broke up with Shuichi. The breakup had come out of nowhere, seemingly. Kaede had broke it off about a week before she was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. Shuichi never worked up the courage to ask why, but he could speculate. 

The breakup was most likely to drive him away from Kokichi. It probably wasn’t meant to be permanent, but with Kaede in the hospital, Shuichi hadn’t had the balls to go clarify with her after the fact. The only thing Kokichi had done to warrant Kaede’s manipulative wrath was disagree with her. Granted, he  _ radically _ and  _ rightfully _ disagreed with her when she told Shuichi to ask Kokichi to move out so that she could move in with him, but Kaede was ticked off either way. A tense encounter ended with Kaede calling Kokichi a slew of choice words (faggot, manipulative, disgusting, to name a few). 

In the end, Shuichi had quietly told her to get the hell out of their apartment. In a way, he probably brought upon the breakup himself. He had blamed himself for not only the breakup, but the cancerous death as well. Did he still blame himself for it?

“I feel like I brought it upon her,” Shuichi said quietly, after a while.

Kokichi grit his teeth, “Normally, I’d say something like ‘that bitch had  _ it _ coming’, but for your sake right now, I’m going to tell you that there was no plausible way for you to have avoided it. You aren’t a doctor. How were you supposed to know?”

“I mean, I saw her naked pretty frequently. I should have noticed bruises, or, or  _ lumps _ or something,” Shuichi breathed.

“You were having sex with her, Shu. You weren’t exactly giving her a medical checkup,” Kokichi said darkly.

Shuichi flushed.

“Okay, let’s not talk about that part in public. I’ve just… I’ve also been thinking about the way she treated you,” Kokichi raised his eyebrows at Shuichi but kept quiet, “and I’m starting to remember all these little things that she- she would  _ say _ to you, and I don’t know how I justified it in my mind, but I should have stood up for you…” Shuichi took a breath.

“On some level, I still believe it was real love, regardless of how codependent of a relationship it was.”

Kokichi worked his jaw, “People fall in love with their therapists. It’s a psychological thing. It doesn’t mean she wasn’t a psychopath who used you to feed her ego.”

Shuichi bowed his head.

“I think I’m better off without her.”

Kokichi smiled, “I think you’re better off with confidence that comes from yourself and not someone else.”

Shuichi returned the expression: “You’re being really genuine today, Kichi. I’m not complaining. It’s just kinda, out of character.”

“Hey, even I draw the line somewhere. I saw how much this affected you. Honestly, it all affected me too, but you mean more to me than some lame joke or lie.”

“Do you want to talk about how it affected you?” Shuichi asked. Kokichi shook his head and took a bite of his sandwich. Shuichi understood, and decided to continue eating his own. Kokichi would tell him later. Someday. After all, Shuichi trusted him. After a few minutes of disconnected banter about school and such, they were ready to leave. 

While they walked out the door, Shuichi shoved his hands in his pockets and watched Kokichi dance around the open walkway of white marble.

“Hey, Kichi.  _ Kichi _ ,” Shuichi called. Kokichi heard him the second time and stopped his skipping to turn and look at Shuichi.

“Thanks for today. You’re the best,” Shuichi said with a lopsided smile. Kokichi’s eyes widened for a second before he grinned back and looked away, blushing slightly. Leave it to Kokichi Ouma to pull the whole ‘subtly embarrassed at compliments’ thing when Shuichi really tries to give him a compliment. Shuichi just rolled his eyes as they kept walking out.

\----

They got home around 1pm. Kokichi went into his room to grab his study things, and Shuichi went to check his socials. Upon opening the AnonymousQ website, Shuichi was greeted with hundreds of new messages. It was mostly more of the same:

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _ i would kill to go out with you. not literally tho, lol. bc, yknow, ur a detective _

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _ oh to be detective saihara’s hat :woozy: _

**_Anonymous said:_ ** _ daddy daddy daddy daddy _

Shuichi cringed outwardly. After scrolling for a little longer, he found a few questions about the court process, his college major, and the case itself. He disclosed whatever he knew he was allowed to, then scrolled back up to the top. He refreshed the page, but instead of his eyes being drawn to the new messages, Shuichi pulled out his buzzing phone.

Spotify: [user54244 added a song to a playlist you’re following.]

Shuichi opened the app, mildly nervous. When he clicked on the playlist, the new song stared back at him with the childish orange album cover. ‘Best Friend’ by Rex Orange County sat on the little playlist, right below the first song. Shuichi pulled out his earbuds and turned his volume up. He reached for his computer to search up the lyrics so that he could read them while he listened. 

The soft strums of synth filled his ears as he listened to what the singer was saying. Shuichi watched the room around him as his mind was filled with images by the singer. It certainly seemed like the two songs were familiar. Like the person making the playlist  _ knew _ him somehow. Maybe they were in one of his classes? That seemed most likely. Shuichi couldn’t think of anyone else who would do something like this for him. 

He sighed and rubbed his face in his hands as the song picked up tempo and began to hit the chorus. It wasn’t like he  _ wanted _ to ask straight out who the person was. He didn’t really care all that much. Shuichi was just… intrigued. Nobody had ever done something like this for him. It was strange, not being a nobody anymore. As the song finished, a familiar presence bounded into the room.

“Hey Shu, you’re good with calculus, right?” Kokichi continued without waiting for an answer, “come help me with derivatives pretty please and thank you!” Shuichi gave a thumbs up and took his earbuds out. The chair slide haltingly back as Shuichi stood up and stretched. He made his way into Kokichi’s room, where the said owner was sitting on his bed with papers and binders and a textbook spread all out across the comforter. 

Kokichi’s walls would have been a plain cream, if they weren’t covered in pictures and posters of every kind. The boy’s room wasn’t  _ messy _ , as he liked to say. It was just a little overwhelming. To Shuichi, at least. It smelled of lavender and slightly like new shoes. Kokichi’s bed was a cool purple, kind of like every other thing in the room. Yes, it was a splash of multicolor madness, but if you looked hard enough, the purple would jump out. Shuichi had never asked what Kokichi’s favorite color was; in fact, everyone instinctively knew. Kokichi bounced a little as he sat crosslegged on the bed, drawing Shuichi’s attention.

“Wouldn’t you do better working at a desk?” Shuichi questioned, scratching the side of his head.

Kokichi shook his head and patted the spot on the bed next to him, “Nah, it’s easier to relax somewhere here and get my brain working. Come on, Shumai. Help me, a damsel in academic distress.”

Shuichi closed his eyes and huffed a small laugh before climbing onto the bed next to Kokichi.

“Here, can I put some music on real quick?” Kokichi asked as he grabbed Shuichi’s phone. Shuichi didn’t bother responding with anything but a nod, seeing as Kokichi already had his Spotify pulled up. So much for Kokichi not knowing Shuichi’s password. At this point, Kokichi probably had three different fingerprints in Shuichi’s phone. It wasn’t like Shuichi would let anyone  _ else _ know his password, though, so it was all good.

Kokichi sniffed, “Oh, there’s a new song on that playlist.” Shuichi grinned and looked at his palms.

“Yeah. It’s kinda exciting. If they keep adding music I might want to try and figure out who they are. The music they’re adding seems really like, familiar? It’s probably someone I know.”

Kokichi held the phone a little tighter and looked at Shuichi with a strange expression, “Someone you know? Whaddya mean by that?”

Shuichi pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling, “Mmm, I was thinking it was somebody in my class. I don’t know yet. I mean, if they keep adding songs I’ll find out eventually. A part of me really hopes they  _ do  _ continue.”

Kokichi just nodded, then turned back to the phone to start the lo-fi hip hop station.

“Alright. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, what seems to be the issues, m’lady,” Shuichi said quietly, trying to sound like royalty. Y’know, in the way Kokichi does it sometimes. It’s usually funny to listen to, so Shuichi decided to try joking around a little bit. Kokichi looked at him and snorted out a laugh while covering his face.

“Holy shit, Shu. You’re so awkward. I literally can’t even respond to that in character. Just, help me with derivatives please,” laughed the purplenette. Shuichi blushed slightly despite laughing along with Kokichi - so much for making his friend laugh. Once Kokichi’s words registered, Shuichi’s eyes widened a fraction and a smile took over his face. Shuichi Saihara really liked math. (Especially derivatives). Kokichi usually called him a nerd. So did Kaito. (And Maki. Not that they were wrong, they were just brutal. But hey, here was the nerd, explaining things to [one of] them, so who’s laughing now? Huh?)

Shuichi scooted closer to Kokichi and started pointing at expressions and explaining concepts with an animated, energized tone. Kokichi watched the detective’s hands fly around to illustrate his words. When Shuichi was passionate about something, he would get a certain sparkle in his eyes and sit absolutely upright. All (mostly all) of his intrinsic awkwardness would fly out the window, and at  _ that _ point Shuichi Saihara was absolutely  _ captivating _ to watch. Kokichi had told him so a few times, but Shuichi had brushed it off as a joke.

The two college sophomores sat on the bed as the warm rays of afternoon sun shone through the gaps in the blinds and illuminated the numbers on the paper. The soft lofi music filled the background, and the rest of the world faded away until they were two companions on a boat that was really an apartment bed, with a map of the world in their hands. And lots and lots of math.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think ive made it pretty obvious who the spotify person is?? right?? ri- right????  
> comments are always appreciated ily guys!!  
> \----  
> my tumblr: plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com  
> my ask box is always open: https://plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com/ask


	3. rose-colored boy - paramore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laundry, dinner, livestream <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... so, we're going to pretend it HASN'T been a whole month, and i'm going to toss 6.7k words of domestic saiouma on y'all. i hope it's okay :)  
> \- in all honesty, though, school is rough for me, plus i've been focusing on cosplay a bit more, so i'm trying to find a better system for juggling my hobby-work. i still FULLY intend on finishing this fic (it is completely outlined and the playlist is set with 17 songs; the chapter amount isn't just a red herring)  
> anyway sorry for ranting, i know it's been a while. i'll try to update more frequently.  
> enjoy!!

“No, your fans follow you. You! Not me, Shumai,” Kokichi scolded as he folded a pillow case. Shuichi met Kokichi’s exasperated gaze with puppy eyes across the blue laundry basket sitting atop the couch. 

“Yeah, but you’re my roommate, so I feel like it would make sense, because you’re close enough to me that they’ll get a sense of who I really am by talking to you,” Shuichi refuted, albeit unconvincingly. 

Kokichi rolled his eyes, “Okay, that kind of makes sense, but this is your  _ first _ livestream. They’re gonna think you fucking photoshop your photos or something like that. Not that I wouldn’t love to do a livestream on my own later, but I think  _ you _ should be leading your first one. Capeesh?” 

In lieu of an answer, Shuichi let his head roll back and ran a hand down his face. Kokichi nudged the detective with an edge of the sheet he was holding and they continued folding bedsheets in comfortable silence.

“Will you at least be with me?” Shuichi asked quietly, after a few more sheets. 

The amount of energy Kokichi used to keep himself from turning crimson and spluttering would have demolished his monthly paycheck. It took him a second to realize Shuichi was probably still talking about the live stream, and the kinesiology major reacted accordingly.

“Of course, Shumai! Who else could save you from the big bad internet people who happen to have clicked a certain button on your profile that allows them to see every post you make because they’re so invested in your life?”

The tips of Shuichi’s ears went red, and he exhaled in something that resembled a laugh. Before he could respond, Kokichi continued.

“Not to mention the majority of them have fantasized about fucking y-” the purplenette was cut off by Shuichi shoving a pillowcase to his mouth with a mortified expression.

“You can’t just say that about random people!” Shuichi frantically cut in. Kokichi rolled his eyes. Hard. Shuichi tentatively removed the pillowcase, and after a few seconds of silence to make sure Kokichi wasn’t going to continue, the detective went back to folding.

“First of all, I  _ can _ , and second of all, I  _ especially can _ when there is an entire site filled with people begging you to tie them to your bed and dominate them,” Kokichi paused tastefully, “Or maybe it would occur vice versa. You never struck me as a bottom, but I’m sure there are some willing fem-doms in your comment sec-”

Again, Kokichi was cut off abruptly, but this time it was by Shuichi slapping a hand across his mouth hard enough that the smaller boy lost balance and sat down jarringly on the bed. Shuichi noticed his force and cringed.

“Sorry, but I  _ really _ don’t want to talk about doing…  _ that _ with random people, regardless of how lightly it’s being taken,” Shuichi amended. Kokichi just glared at him for a second before Shuichi yelped and withdrew his hand quickly.

“What the heck, Kichi! Don’t do that!”

Kokichi giggled while Shuichi wiped his palm on his pant leg, “We literally share kitchenware. And a shower. Saliva is something you should be used to, beloved one.”

“It’s not like I’m showering in your saliva, though! Directly licking me and eating off of the same plate is so dissimilar I could cry,” Shuichi whined. Kokichi winked and stuck the offending tongue out at Shuichi.

“At least I only licked your hand and not anywhere else~” Kokichi started. Shuichi squeaked and covered Kokichi’s mouth again, and they fell back onto the bed in a laughing heap. If Shuichi noticed that Kokichi’s face was tinged pink when he emerged from below the detective, he didn’t comment on it.

“So I was thinking we would go live tonight, just so we have time to do the project for your class, have dinner, then set up. Does that sound okay?” Shuichi spoke like he had an agenda written in his brain.

Kokichi’s mouth hung open slightly, “You remembered the uh,” he snapped his fingers and looked at the wall, trying to remember, “ _ anatomical artistry _ project? Jeez, Shumai, you’re such a moral compass.”

“Actually, I’m a detective,” Shuichi said with mock-seriousness.

“In training,” Kokichi amended with a fake yawn, “Out of my way, servant, I have sheets to fold.” Shuichi scoffed and got up to grab a pillowcase while Kokichi ‘gracefully’ jumped off the bed.

Kokichi made a grabby hand at the pillowcase Shuichi was holding while he scratched the side of his nose, “No, I wanted that one.”

“What?”

Kokichi sighed dramatically, “I said, I wanted  _ that _ pillow cover. Give it.”

Shuichi blinked slowly, then handed Kokichi the pillowcase, “You’re insufferable.”

“You as well, are the light of my life, beloved Shuichi Saihara,” Kokichi monotoned before brightening, “Oh come ooon, you didn’t actually have to give it to me! It’s just fun to screw with you.”

Shuichi grunted something that sounded like ‘yeah, whatever’ and handed the pillowcase to Kokichi. After another pause in which they continued folding laundry, Shuichi spoke up.

“Y’know, I have this really weird memory of doing laundry with someone, and I can’t tell if it’s my mom or the female housekeeper, but we’re folding sheets together, and every time we come together to hand over the sides of the sheets we just folded, y’know,” Shuichi paused to gesture at their current activity, “like this. Uh, when we joined our two corners to the other person’s, we’d kiss before handing over the sheet. That’s such a specific thing, isn’t it? I have these random memories of people that probably aren’t my parents, instead of a vague storyline following my childhood. It’s kinda weird, yeah?”

Kokichi raised his eyebrows mock-thoughtfully, “So... you want me to kiss you every time I hand over the sheet? Alright detective, pucker the fuck up then, I guess.”

“Ah, no no, that’s not what I meant,” Shuichi looked back up at Kokichi and started to back away slowly from the kinesiologist, approaching in a predatorial manner, “No, Kokichi wait- stop, you  _ know _ that’s not what I meant- eek!”

Shuichi’s back hit the wall as Kokichi pounced at his chest.

“Ewww, ewewew, Kichi get  _ off, _ ” Shuichi said while he swatted at Kokichi’s arms. Kokichi pushed off of the detective and pulled an Oikawa Tooru face before skipping back to the laundry basket.

“Come on Shumai, I didn’t  _ actually _ lick you that time,” the purplenette said, “Hey, how come my Paramore shirt is in the bedsheets basket?”

Shuichi glanced over at the band tee Kokichi was holding up before focusing back on the pillowcases, “I dunno, maybe the last time we had steamy, hot sex it got caught in the sheets and we washed it with them on accident.”

Kokichi’s jaw dropped into a disbelieving smile of mirth, “Holy shit, Kaito was right. I’m  _ totally _ a horrible influence on you. When did you even learn words like that, what the  _ fuck _ .” Shuichi smiled in embarrassment as Kokichi dissolved into a fit of unrestrained laughter.

“Come on, finish the sheets with me. I don’t know why it’s in there; it’s entirely possible you took it off at night and it got shoved down with the sheets while you slept,” Shuichi said, all back-to-business.

Kokichi complied, laughing quietly to himself. The midday sun filtered through the thin white curtains on the living room windows of the modest apartment, and lit the two from the side in an arc of golden milk. Commuters and pedestrians on the street outside the apartment wove a tapestry of community and ambient noise to cushion the comfortable silence that filled the apartment’s productive atmosphere. Shuichi smiled to himself for no reason at all, and Kokichi hummed a tune as they finished their work in peace.

***

“WHAT?!?” Kokichi shrieked, “This professor has gotta be some kind of pervert. I don’t want to take pictures of myself  _ naked _ for a  _ college project!” _

Shuichi made a face of disbelief, “They want you to be  _ fully _ naked? That’s gotta be illegal or something. Let me see the guidelines.”

Kokichi slumped back into the dining table chair and handed his phone to Shuichi, who immediately started reading.

“Okay, Kichi, it says here that you don’t  _ need _ to be the model. Also, it’s just to whatever level of clothing you’re comfortable with. Sportswear or boxers is preferred, but not required,” Shuichi looked up from the phone to meet Kokichi’s eyes, “You can do boxers, right? S’Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Kokichi looked like he had just taken a bite of a lemon, and crossed his arms, “Fine. No comments, though.”

“What, like I’m going to insult you?”

“No, I just don’t want you to…” Kokichi shrugged with a blank face, “I don’t know, okay? Just, don’t act like it’s weird.”

Shuichi nodded, trying to understand, “Okay. I don’t know if this is what you want to hear,” Kokichi shifted in his seat while Shuichi ran his eyes over the purplenette’s small frame, “but I think your body is nice. If that’s even... what you’re worried about.”

Kokichi gave Shuichi a pointed look, then reached to pluck his phone out of Shuichi’s hand.

“I could be the model, y’know. It doesn’t say anything about who has to be drawn on,” Shuichi suggested.

Kokichi looked at Shuichi with a condescending smile, “Okay Shu, I’ll just let you go to class tomorrow with muscle names written all over your body. Nobody will notice, agreed?”

Shuichi sighed, “I wear long sleeves and long pants every day. Nobody but you would see it.”

Kokichi refrained from making his twentieth dirty joke of the day to respond quasi-seriously:

“Alright, as long as you’re okay with stripping down and laying on my bed for an hour while I try to remember wherever the hell the coracobrachialis is.”

“Yeah, I’m okay with it. It’s not like I have any projects I left until the last minute to complete to finish tonight,” Shuichi jabbed back casually.

“You’re making dinner tonight.”

“Sure thing, baby-doll.”

Kokichi didn’t respond for a good bit of time. When Shuichi looked over, the purplenette was staring at his phone with renewed interest. Shuichi smiled and pulled his phone out right as another notification for AnonymousQ pinged out.

“Ugh,” he groaned, “I really gotta turn these notifications off. You’d think that after a day or two it would have slowed down, but nope, people are  _ still _ going.”

Kokichi stretched and stood up, “It’s probably because you announced the livestream, what, less than an hour ago? Your fans are probably pissing themselves in excitement.”

Shuichi blinked, “You really have no filter, do you.”

Kokichi laughed and started walking to the bedroom.

“Come on,  _ babydoll _ , it’s time for you to take your shirt off and stay still while I write on your limbs in Sharpie.” This time, it was Shuichi’s turn to blush involuntarily.

***

“Honestly, I probably have some workout pants that will be more appropriate to wear than just my boxers. Especially if your class is going to be seeing these photos,” Shuichi said from Kokichi’s bed while the latter set his computer up on the dresser. 

Kokichi hummed in affirmation, and Shuichi went to his bedroom to change.

“Y’know,” Kokichi called from the other room, “You could always go full nude. See how my pervy ass teacher reacts when I pull up with soft porn.”

Shuichi went crimson in his own room and forwent responding in favor of tying the strings of his nike shorts. When he walked back into Kokichi’s bedroom, the purplenette took one look at his pants and scoffed.

“Oh my hell, usually people’s workout pants are like, neon green. Why is your  _ entire _ wardrobe black?”

Shuichi scratched the back of his neck, “I just like it- is that so bad?”

Kokichi shook his head with a laugh and gestured to the bed. Shuichi pulled his black t-shirt off and threw it at Kokichi before flopping on the bed face first.

“Pffh,” Kokichi barely dodged the shirt, “I’m not here to give you a massage, Shu, roll over.” Shuichi groaned but followed instructions. Kokichi grabbed the sharpie from his dresser and bounced over to the bed. Shuichi closed his eyes and sighed.

“It’s okay if you fall asleep, I’ll just let you know when I need you to roll over,” Kokichi said as he climbed onto Shuichi and tried to remember the scientific names for the different parts of the abs.

Shuichi cleared his throat, “I’m good. I just don’t care to watch you burst a blood vessel trying to remember what muscle is which.”

Kokichi smiled cruelly, “Shuichi Saihara-chan. I’m currently sitting on top of you with a  _ Sharpie _ . Watch your mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah. Like I can’t literally bench press you,” Shuichi said, then opened his eyes and lifted his head in slight panic, “Really though, don’t draw any dicks, please. At least, if you do, make sure they aren’t visible for the livestream.” 

“You  _ can’t _ bench press me, and I’m not about to get marked down on my project for a vengeance I can get any day of the week,” Kokichi said mildly. Shuichi swallowed visibly, then dropped his head back down and groaned.

“Okay, okay. I trust you.”

Shuichi could practically hear Kokichi’s smile as the Sharpie began to trace along his skin. The detective yelped at the cold marker and Kokichi shushed him.

“Am I not allowed to talk?” Shuichi whispered. Kokichi shook his head. The purplenette’s tongue poked out as he focused hard on the writing.

“Your muscles keep… moving… and it’s hard to… gyeh... Okay, I got it. It’s hard to write when your abs keep doing the jitterbug. Had any coffee recently?”

Shuichi tried to laugh without moving his core too much, “No, it’s just a little ticklish there.”

“What, you mean like… here?” Kokichi dug his fingers into Shuichi’s sides and tickled. Shuichi let out another yelp then started giggling incessantly.

“Please,” Shuichi wheezed, “Kichi please st-  _ stop- _ ” Kokichi’s grin grew impossibly wider and he moved his fingertips to Shuichi’s armpits. Shuichi nearly screamed and sat up to haul Kokichi off of him. While Kokichi fell off the bed, Shuichi sat up and caught his breath.

“How am I supposed to trust you now? I’m not gonna be able to have you draw on me after being tickled ruthlessly,” Shuichi breathed.

Kokichi pouted from the floor. Shuichi stood up and stretched. He swung his arms back and forth for a second to shake off the sensitivity of post-being-tickled. 

“Okay, I think I’m good. You may continue,” Shuichi looked down to see Kokichi watching him from his spot on the floor.

“Are you alright?”

Kokichi blinked then shook his head a little and got up, “Yeah! Lay back down, Shumai. I promise not to tickle this time~”

Shuichi laid down for what seemed like the tenth time that afternoon.

“No dicks, alright?”

Kokichi giggled as he moved to straddle Shuichi again, “Scout’s honor, nishishi.” Shuichi lowered his head.

Then, five minutes later:

“They don’t even  _ have _ boy scouts in Japan!”

***

Shuichi turned his face to the side so he wasn’t muffled by the bed, “I was thinking more about the whole thing with Kaede.”

Kokichi paused writing, “Yeah? What’d you come up with?”

“She was an amazing girlfriend, and I think the stress of her illness affected how she treated us.”

Kokichi was silent.

Shuichi pushed on, “Especially near the end, when she said all those… things to you. I think she was really scared, Kich’. She was…”

“It’s easier to dislike her,” Kokichi said blankly.

Shuichi inhaled, “I think it’s easier for me too, but thinking about it more made me realize how much I loved-”

“There’s probably a little bit of truth to each side of the story. She was a nice girl, whatever. She treated you badly sometimes. Whatever. She’s irreversibly, irrevocably  _ dead _ , and it doesn’t matter how much we psychoanalyze your relationship, it still won’t change anything, Shuichi.”

Shuichi’s listened to Kokichi’s jaw click shut after the mini-rant.

“I,” Shuichi started tentatively after a few seconds, “I really loved her.” He said it like it was ripping off a bandaid, and once it was out: the dam broke.

“I loved her so much, and I think that the pros outweighed the cons 99% of the time. She and I met in what were probably the least convenient circumstances possible, and she  _ still _ tried her best to make me happy for so long. And she did. Make me happy, I mean. I know you didn’t like her all that much, but she sort of reminded me of you, in a way. You both know exactly how to handle me, and you get this  _ look _ on your face when I’m talking to you sometimes that perfectly mirrors one she used to wear, and it’s just,” Shuichi took a deep breath, “It makes me feel so safe, and it makes me think, ‘this is my person. I never want to lose this person.’ So I’m done demonizing her and I’m done putting her on a pedestal. I think through years of knowing her and entire nights of sitting up talking, or having sex, or playing video games, and I don’t think it would change  _ anything _ , just like you said. I think it’s nice to finally allow myself to think about this, though. Realistically, she probably broke up with me so I wouldn’t have to watch the final decline, but it was ultimately my choice to give up after that. I could have gone to see her in the hospital. I could have said  _ goodbye _ : but I didn’t. And I’m sorry for that.”

Kokichi, who had since stopped writing and started rubbing circles along Shuichi’s back, spoke up, “Don’t apologize to  _ me _ . You don’t owe me anything. And I’m sure she knows that you’re sorry. She uh, she loved you. Back. She loved you too.”

“I don’t love her anymore.”

Kokichi’s hand on his back paused for a split second before continuing to make soothing motions, “I know.”

Shuichi gave a huge exhale, “Alright, I’m sorry for venting, go ahead and keep writing.”

“Okay,” Kokichi said.

***

“Pose like one of my French girls,” Kokichi beamed with his phone held up to take a picture. Shuichi rolled his eyes and sat up on the bed with his arms held out like he was asking for a hug.

Kokichi ‘tsked’, “No, we need to be able to see the writing on your abs. Get up and go stand in the corner.” Shuichi laughed but did as he was told. Kokichi lifted the camera and clicked a few pictures.

“Okay Shumai, turn around.” Kokichi said.

A few more clicks sounded, and Shuichi turned back around again.

“You’re the worst. I’m gonna change, then I’ll make dinner.” 

Kokichi made a silly face at Shuichi as the latter walked out of the room and closed the door. Kokichi counted to three before falling face-first onto his bed and biting back a highschooler-esque scream.

***

A while later, the entire apartment smelled of soup. Kokichi sat on the island barstool and watched Shuichi dance to the melancholy vocaloid song playing on the kitchen speaker. The detective was wearing the frilly waist apron Kokichi had bought as a joke, simply out of lasting, good-humored spite. Kokichi laid his head on the counter as the familiar atmosphere washed over him. In the corner of his vision, Shuichi swayed along to the high notes and bounced slightly to the faster beats. 

“Your hair is getting pretty long. I’ll need to cut it soon,” Kokichi mumbled into his arms.

Shuichi looked back at Kokichi, then nodded. His hair curled further down his chin and the lick of hair that fell across his face nearly reached his mouth. It frustrated Kokichi slightly, made him want to take a pair of scissors and  _ snip _ . Shuichi started humming along to the music and Kokichi closed his eyes, letting the soft air blow golden flecks of sleep into his mind. 

***

“-chi. Kichi, the miso is ready. Let’s eat before the livestream. Or are you too tired? I’ll postpone it if you need to rest, no worries,” Shuichi’s soft voice crept into Kokichi’s sleep-addled brain.

“How long was I out?” Kokichi yawned.

Shuichi counted his fingers, “About three weeks.” Kokichi swatted him on the arm.

“Barely ten minutes,” Shuichi relented, “Which is why I’m willing to let you sleep instead of going live.”

Kokichi blinked, “Don’t worry about it, I’m just fine. I’ll probably sleep early tonight.” Shuichi scoffed at the lukewarm commitment, but walked over to dish out the soup anyway.

Kokichi slipped out of the counter chair to grab napkins and spoons from the drawers. Shuichi made his way over to the counter with the two steaming bowls while Kokichi sat back down.

“Careful, it’s probably still really hot. Do you want some water?” Shuichi asked.

Kokichi placed a napkin and spoon next to Shuichi’s bowl before responding, “Yes my dear, that would be  _ lovely _ .”

They ate in comfortable silence for a little while before Kokichi started, “So what’s the livestream gonna be? Do you have a vague plan?”

Shuichi nodded and swallowed, “I’m going to start with a simple introduction, then I figured we could use the question function on Instagram Live to have a Q+A. Just to start us off. Also, the chat can be good for fueling the live, I guess. Do you think I should have something else planned?”

Kokichi shook his head, “No, that sounds good. You want me to sit there and what, watch you?”

“No! No, you can answer questions too. I’m going to include you in the introduction. Duh.”

Kokichi nodded. Shuichi gestured to his bowl, “Are you done? If so, I’ll take it up,” Kokichi nodded, “okay. Here, give it to me.”

Shuichi made his way to the sink and flipped on the faucet. Kokichi took a fresh napkin and wet it on the running faucet to clean the counter off.

“Where are we having the computer set up?” Kokichi asked while he cleaned. Shuichi didn’t answer for a second, probably thinking. 

“It’s only around 6, so I was thinking we could set it up near the window in my bedroom and make use of golden hour until we inevitably lose the sun,” Shuichi responded.

“Okay, Shumai! It’s all up to you,” Kokichi smiled, “Thank you for making dinner.”

Shuichi blinked at Kokichi’s honesty, “Of course, Kokichi.”

***

**_@detective.saihara is now LIVE!_ **

A few seconds after Shuichi went live, people started joining. Kokichi and Shuichi were sat on the couch in front of the coffee table in the living room. The late afternoon sunlight hit them, illuminating them from the right and the front. Kokichi wore his obnoxious purple fluffy socks, much to Shuichi’s dismay. Kokichi was sitting with one leg tucked under himself, and the other bent and resting on the couch.. Shuichi sat criss-cross applesauce on his left, with simple white socks. Kokichi had hid every baseball hat in the house while Shuichi cleaned the dishes, so Shuichi sat there, naked-headed and nervous.

“Hey guys- wow, there’s a lot of people. Hi everyone, I’m Shuichi. Saihara. Shuichi Saihara. Uh, I thought going live would be a fun thing to do, maybe so you guys could get to know me better as a person? I hope that’s okay.” Shuichi put on a puppy-dog smile, and Kokichi wanted to melt and throw up at the same time.

“I’m Kokichi Ouma, Shuichi’s roommate, by the way! Since he just failed to introduce me,” Kokichi sang sweetly. Shuichi looked at Kokichi and the edges of his eyes crinkled in genuinity.

“So um, I’m going to enable the Q+A function here in a second so that you guys can ask questions and stuff. Ah, but first I was going to tell you a little bit about us. Me and Ouma. Kokichi. I don’t know why I’m calling him Ouma.”

Kokichi laughed at Shuichi’s blustering and waved into the camera, “We’ve known each other for a very long time, so I usually call him Shumai. Don’t ask, I won’t tell you.”

Shuichi threw a lopsided smile at him then turned back to the camera as well, “I usually just call him Kichi. I dunno, it just kinda fits. I don’t have the privilege of having some super exciting food-themed nickname like he does. Besides, wasn’t ‘Shumai’ something you made up to tease Kait-”

Kokichi shushed him dramatically, “I just told them not to ask! Don’t go spilling my secrets after two minutes on a live!”

Shuichi closed his eyes and laughed.

“Alright, alright. Well, I’m a criminal justice major, and Kokichi is a kinesiology major.” Kokichi made a peace sign and stuck his tongue out. 

Shuichi continued, “Kokichi is here for moral support, but I’m sure he’d be more than happy to answer questions. He’s much better at social interaction than I.” Kokichi giggled in agreement.

“I’m sure they can tell,” the purplenette joked. Shuichi rolled his eyes back at him then looked closer at the screen.

“Okay uh, ‘Did you see my message on AnonQ?’” Shuichi furrowed his eyebrows, then sat back, “Well, I might have. I uh, I wouldn’t have know it- I wouldn’t have  _ known  _ it was your message, though, because it’s an anonymous… site.” Shuichi looked over to where Kokichi was silently laughing.

“What?”

“You’re… isn’t this a Q+A? Come on, Shuichi. Your chat is going 50 miles per hour. Pick better messages. You don’t have to respond to every single one.”

Shuichi huffed, then clicked the question function on Instagram. Questions started to come in pretty quickly. Kokichi swiped through the questions, humming at ones that made no sense, or were just lewd in general.

“Ah. Here we go: What got you interested in the realm of detectives?” Kokichi looked at Shuichi expectantly.

Shuichi flushed slightly, then closed his eyes for a moment.

“Well, this might be a little strange, but it really started with Danganronpa. Y’know, the- the show,” Shuichi glanced at Kokichi, who nodded him on, “Ah, okay. I uh, I really liked this one character. Kyoko Kirigiri? She’s a detective and... honestly, I thought she was really admirable. I wanted to be just like her, at eight years old. So, I started working with my Uncle on some simple cases, and after several years, I picked up some more complicated cases, and in high school I happened to solve the infidelity case, and the media really liked to cover it, and now I’m here.”

Kokichi clapped, while messages of affirmation flooded the chat. Shuichi fake bowed to Kokichi, who laughed. The detective looked back at the screen.

“Alright. Uh… ‘Jazzy’ asked about one thing I really regret,” Shuichi paused in thought. Kokichi made a low whistle but said nothing else.

Shuichi took a few moments to gather his thoughts before speaking again, “I regret a lot of things that, well, like any person would. Um, I actually regret dying my hair blue sometimes, becau-” Kokichi shoved Shuichi to the side.

“I’ll have you all know that I begged him to dye his hair for  _ months _ and he finally gave in, and when he did he  _ loved _ it. Don’t listen to him. What does he know?”

Shuichi elbowed his way back to his spot, laughing.

“Ah okay, but a more serious answer might be that I regret not taking time to understand who I defend in court. That’s really all I have to say on the subject right now.”

Shuichi scrolled up in chat at the few mentions of Kokichi’s name.

“‘I want somebody who looks at me the way Saihara’s roommate looks at him,’” Shuichi read, “What?” He looked over a Kokichi, who was just… looking at him normally. Kokichi shrugged silently.

“Uh, sorry, I’m not exactly sure what you mean! Sorry, though,” Shuichi smiled and laughed sheepishly. Kokichi nudged him.

“You don’t need to apologize so much,” he stage whispered. Shuichi blushed, again. Kokichi scrolled through the questions.

“Ugh,” Kokichi made a dramatic gesture of disgust, “I’m usually all for embarrassing Shuichi, but can y’all chill with the thirst for a second? He’s basically a kitten. Like, really. He probably doesn’t even know what half these things mean.” Kokichi glanced at Shuichi to gage his reaction. Shuichi just smiled and nodded. Kokichi continued scrolling for a few seconds before laughing in surprise.

“Ugh, alright. Holy shit.  _ Alex _ says, ‘You are so sexy. Please let me-’” Shuichi grabbed Kokichi around the back of the head and covered his mouth.

“Alright guys! I think we need to cool it with the mature messages. Don’t make me censor chat, please! I’m sure they meant well, Kichi,” Shuichi tried to say brightly. Kokichi rolled his eyes and peeled Shuichi’s hand off his face.

“Meant well? I don’t know what you think they wanted to do, Shuichi, but it wasn’t to make you smile. These are called  _ horny _ comments,” Kokichi spoke like he was explaining division to a kindergartener. Shuichi made a face like he really needed to pee and groaned.

“Can we just… move on? I’m kinda done with this,” Shuichi begged. Kokichi threw his hands up in surrender, then leaned back against Shuichi.

“‘Sarah asked if… I’m dating anyone, well-”

“He isn’t,” Kokichi yawned, “I would know.” Shuichi scoffed and Kokichi looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Hm,  _ are _ you secretly dating someone? That’s surprising, Saihara-chan~” 

Shuichi smile-gaped, “So you’re insulting my ability to get a girlfriend  _ and _ I was downgraded to Saihara-chan? Cold, Kichi. Real cold.” Kokichi gave a smile that scrunched his entire face and tilted his head.

“Hm, Shumai, I thought you didn’t like  _ just _ girls?” Kokichi drawled. Shuichi went red.

“Ah, well, I’d say I’m bisexual. Probably. I definitely like girls. I’m not too sure about guys. Anyway, this is a conversation for another t-”

Kokichi hummed, “ _ Well _ , ‘Isaiah’ here seems to be perfectly willing to help you experiment! Lucky you. And thank you, Isaiah, for your generosity :)”

“How did you just say :) out loud?” Shuichi asked.

Kokichi shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. Are you gonna take up the offer?” Shuichi spluttered and shook his head. Kokichi watched him with a mischievous smile before fluttering his eyelashes.

“Aw, why nooot? It was  _ such _ a nice offer.”

Shuichi blanched, “Honestly, if I’m  _ gonna _ experiment with anyone, it would probably be-”

“Kaito?  _ Kiibo _ ?  **_Me_ ** _? _ ” Kokichi gasped more dramatically with each guess.

“...I was gonna say Rantaro. Since, y’know. That  _ did _ happen. Technically.”

Kokichi blinked.

“ _ What? _ ”

Shuichi gave a small laugh and scratched the back of his neck, “Again, I don’t really know if this is something to talk about on a live… Are you guys going to judge me if I talk about personal things from a couple years ago?” Shuichi directed the last question at the chat. After a short delay, messages flooded in and the chat decided on a unanimous, ‘No, please tell us right now.’

Shuichi sighed, “Okay. Well, it’s not a very long story, but it involved me, my friend Rantaro- sorry Rantaro. I’m kind of outing our sexual experience to a couple hundred people right now, I hope that’s okay.”

“He says it’s fine,” Kokichi cut in. Shuichi whipped his head around to see Kokichi holding up his phone.

“He’s  _ watching?” _ Shuichi squeaked.

Kokichi laughed maniacally, “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you I texted a bunch of our friends about the live. I hope that’s okay~”

Shuichi groaned.

“Alright, well. Hey Rantaro. And others, probably. Um, so. Ugh,” Shuichi put his face in his hands and spoke with a muffled voice, “This is so embarrassing.”

Kokichi laughed loudly, “Come on, lover boy. Give us the scoop!”

“We just, we. We-had-sex-in-the-back-of-his-car-in-high-school? Okay? In like, sophomore year. It’s nothing special! Technically it was my first time, but it wasn’t his. We don’t  _ talk _ about it,” Shuichi admitted in one breath.

Shuichi sat up and watched Kokichi, who only blinked again. Shuichi opened his mouth to continue before Kokichi inhaled.

“You had  _ sex _ with my middle-school boyfriend?”

Shuichi’s mouth clicked shut.

“You fucked my  _ middle-school ex-boyfriend _ in the back of his  _ metallic blue sedan? _ ”

Shuichi was absolutely crimson. In the silence that stretched between them, Kokichi’s phone buzzed. Kokichi slowly reached to take it from his pocket, when Shuichi’s hand shot over to cover his hip.

“It’s Rantaro. Don’t read out the text out loud. Or preferably, at all,” Shuichi said with wide eyes.

Kokichi quickly pried Shuichi’s hand off his hip and extracted his phone without breaking eye-contact. Shuichi glanced down at the message and blushed harder. Kokichi cleared his throat as he brought his phone up to eye level, then immediately started coughing at the message Rantaro had sent.

“ _ Rantaro _ ,” Shuichi’s voice cracked on the exclamation.

After a few seconds, Kokichi exhaled a laugh, “Rantaro says, ‘Yeah, that sounded about right.’” 

Shuichi’s face rivalled the color of Maki’s favorite shirt in high school.

Kokichi, seemingly recovered, cleared his throat, “I thought Kaede was your first? Or was she the first person you  _ t- _ ” Shuichi made an unintelligible noise and shoved Kokichi clear off the couch. He looked back at the livestream with still incredibly red cheeks.

“No, guys, I’m not talking about this anymore. Thank you Rantaro, for you  _ wonderful _ contributions. We always have the best time together, truly,” He swiped through the questions.

“Shumai,” Kokichi started.

Shuichi responded to a question over Kokichi’s attempts to say something, “Uh, I’m currently attending Hope’s Peak University, along with Kokichi.”

“ _ Shumai,” _ Kokichi hissed. Shuichi looked at him mutely. Kokichi brought his hands up and opened his mouth as if gathering his thoughts before speaking.

When he spoke, it was slowly and clearly, “Did you, or did you not, have sex with Rantaro?”

Shuichi furrowed his eyebrows and went to respond indignantly, but Kokichi shushed him with a finger to Shuichi’s mouth.

“It’s a yes or no question, Saihara. Answer it as such,” Kokichi said seriously.

Shuichi swallowed, “Uh, yes? Yeah, I did.” Kokichi nodded, then raised his hands to chest level again like he was calming down a cat.

“And does Rantaro identify as a man?” Kokichi asked. Shuichi tilted his head softly and nodded slowly.

“I think he does? I mean, last time I checked he did,” Shuichi responded, “Where are you going with this, Kich’?”

Kokichi cleared his throat, “Okay, don’t get mad at me for this one, it’s just a question. Did you  _ like _ having sex with Rantaro?”

Shuichi’s eyes widened and he went to turn away, but Kokichi snapped his fingers, “Hey, hey just answer, I swear this isn’t anything bad.” Shuichi slumped his shoulders.

“Yes?” He said meekly. Kokichi smiled serenely.

"Shu,” Kokichi started, “You had sex with a guy and liked it. You just admitted you  _ still _ know you liked it. I think that means you’re decidedly  _ not _ straight.”

Shuichi just stared, “I mean, I  _ guess. _ I did say earlier that I’d consider myself bisexual.” Kokichi clapped his hands.

“Perfect! That means there are  _ two _ raging homosexuals in this apartment!”

Shuichi shook his head in good humor and looked back at the chat.

“Okay everyone, I really want to focus on other questions now. You guys mean a lot to me, so I want to answer you as best as possible.” Kokichi relaxed back into his spot on the couch.

“Or I can tell you guys baby Shuichi Saihara stories!” Kokichi chirped.

“You didn’t even  _ know  _ me as a baby,” Shuichi retorted.

Kokichi shrugged, “Elementary school, middle school. Close enough.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes and looked back to the questions on the screen.

***

**_@detective.saihara: The LIVE has now ended. Thank you for watching!_ **

Shuichi groaned and stretched. Kokichi watched him for a second before checking the time on his phone.

“It’s almost 8. We were on for a good while,” Kokichi said, bouncing up from the couch.

Shuichi looked at him funny, “Why’d you say that like a British person? ‘ _ Wee wa on fo uh good whoile theah mate.’” _

Kokichi paused to look at Shuichi and dissolved into laughter.

“What the? You’re so weird, Shumai. That wasn’t even a good accent,” Kokichi gasped between laughing. Shuichi smiled and shrugged before yawning.

“Aw man, why am I so tired?” Shuichi groaned.

Kokichi cleared his throat, “You just talked to random people for like, almost two hours. Your social battery is probably,” Kokichi made a thumbs-down and stuck his tongue out.

“That’s probably true. You thrive off social interaction, though. I wish I were more like you,” Shuichi yawned again. Kokichi just snorted and closed the computer. 

“Yeah, well, I’d rather get energized from doing schoolwork. That would be pretty awesome.”

Shuichi smiled and patted Kokichi’s head.

“I’m probably going to go read a book, okay?” Shuichi said. He got halfway to the door before turning back to look at Kokichi.

“Hey, uh. Thank you. For being there it- It meant a lot to me. So, thank you,” Shuichi said in a small voice. Kokichi looked up from his phone with a strange expression, before he recovered.

“‘Course, Shumai! I couldn’t live knowing you had a train wreck of a livestream and I could have stopped it!~” Kokichi teased. Shuichi shook his head and smiled.

“Okay, yes, thank you for making up for my horrible social skills. But also, it was just nice to have you there.  _ You _ mean a lot to m-”

“Ewww, Shumai’s getting all weird and genuine on me,” Kokichi whined. Shuichi mock-gaped.

“What? I’m always genuine! You’re the one who never says what you’re really thinking!”

Kokichi raised a finger to his mouth and winked before walking to his room. Before he crossed the threshold of the door, he popped his head back into the living room and waved animatedly at Shuichi, who laughed to himself.

Shuichi watched the flyaways of purple hair disappear beyond the wall before he made his way to the kitchen table with his computer. After setting down the computer, Shuichi started towards his room.

***

Shuichi dropped onto the bed and sighed. Right as he closed his eyes, a buzz alerted him of his phone’s presence in his pocket. Shuichi rolled over onto his back and pulled out his phone to hold it above his face and look at it. The blood rushed into Shuichi’s ears.

Spotify: [user54244 added a song to a playlist you’re following.]

Shuichi tapped the notification and reached over for his earbuds on the nightstand. With hands slightly shaking from excitement, Shuichi pressed play on the song.

Ah. Now,  _ Paramore _ was an artist Shuichi was quite familiar with, so this was a song he knew pretty well. Kokichi and he were hardcore fans of the band. Searching up the lyrics, Shuichi softly sang along with Hayley.

The song was clearly about pessimism, and not wanting to change one’s outlook on life for a lover. So, that meant the playlist maker was a pessimist, of sorts. Shuichi knew a few pessimists: Ryoma, Maki, Kiibo. Although, Shuichi wouldn’t consider himself a pessimist. 

Obviously, he had  _ used _ to be pretty depressed. Recently though, he had been much better at looking on the bright side of things. Compared to Kokichi, Shuichi was extremely well adjusted, and most of the time willing to look at the positives more than the negatives. 

Using context clues and circumstance, Shuichi decided that he was probably the rose colored boy. Rose colored  _ glasses _ were usually the idea, so… if the boy himself was rose-colored, he must beirreversibly captivating to the singer.

Shuichi hummed along to the chorus and let the rest of the song wash over him for a while. When it ended, Shuichi replayed it, just to get it stuck in his head. 

Shuichi huffed a laugh. Maybe it would be in his dream that night if he listened to it enough. Shuichi smiled with his eyes closed. He wondered if the phantom song-recommender-person was someone in one of his college classes. He would have to pay attention to people around him. Ugh. Although, it was worth it to solve this case.

Case? Shuichi shrugged internally. That’s what it had become to him, he guessed.

He just hoped the evidence would continue coming.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is rantaro x shuichi even a ship?  
> \- comments, kudos, concrit, and insults are all welcome and encouraged <3  
> \----  
> my tumblr: plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com  
> my ask box is always open: https://plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com/ask


	4. ride it - regard / false confidence - noah kahan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans, fish, phone calls <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAHHH its been a while but here,, have this chapter,,  
> !!!! my update schedule is now: bimonthly, hopefully. every other week, sunday night! :)) hope thats okay!!!!  
> this was proofread very late (how on brand of me) so i apologize for any errors! i will prolly go back and see little grammar mistakes and punch myself later.  
> okok enjoy this chap :)

Rantaro shut the door behind Kokichi, who was too busy falling onto the bed face first out of frustration to look back. Rantaro’s room was one of those rooms that everyone wishes they had, but would never really take the time to emulate. Patterned blankets hung on the walls, fake vines twirled around the ceiling/along the blankets, and fairy lights were tastefully placed on the in betweens. Little paper crafts and other tokens of Rantaro’s travels were strung from the ceiling, placed along desks, shelves, anywhere, really. The resulting effect was simultaneously overwhelming and comforting at the same time. Rantaro sat down on the edge of his bed while Kokichi groaned into a pillow.

“Look man, I’m sorry that I never told you, but if we’re being real, Saihara and I haven’t really  _ talked _ about it in a couple years. It was sort of a one time thing, and then he got over whatever it was that made him want to in the first place,” Rantaro told the back of Kokichi’s head. Said purple-head lifted his face to fix Rantaro with a suspicious glare.

“There’s a lot to unpack there.”

Rantaro furrowed his eyebrows in silent question. Kokichi sighed and sat up, because it was a tragedy that Rantaro needed explanation for something so mundane.

“He ‘got over’ something. So, what, he liked you? And you didn’t say _you_ got over it. What gives?”

Rantaro rolled his eyes, “I was into him for long enough in high school that I think it’s probably all out of my system by now. Especially considering I have a girlfriend in England.”

Kokichi pouted and Rantaro tilted his head back in exasperation.

“How did this even happen though? That’s what  _ I’m _ wondering,” Miu called, strutting into the room holding a bowl of chips. Kokichi forlornly took a handful of chips and started eating them as Miu settled onto the bed as well.

Rantaro pursed his lips, “Uh, honestly it was kind of a wild card. Well- okay. I could tell he was into me from how he acted in class- Y’know how you can tell when someone’s just staring at you?”

“Okay, so he totally had the hots for you. We get  _ that _ , but how the hell did you guys end up havin-” Miu was cut off by an irritated sound from Kokichi, with a mouthful of chips.

Rantaro looked over at Kokichi in mild surprise before continuing, “We would text pretty often and joke about stuff like that, and during the sophomore homecoming it just kind of happened. Honestly, if I had to compare it to something, I’d compare it to how I asked you out in middle school, Kokichi.”

“You barely even asked me out, dude, you just kind of kissed me in the middle of the park,” Kokichi deadpanned. Rantaro shrugged deferentially.

“Well, yeah.”

Kokichi sighed in an attempt to cover up the fact that his stomach was turning to ice. Miu just sat, munching on chips, deep in thought.

“Hey, pig-bitch. Don’t eat all the chips. They’re all gonna go straight to your tits and  _ then _ you’ll have issues getting out the door. Blegh,” Kokichi spat at Miu. The engineering major snapped out of her thoughts and cocked her head with a grin.

“Damn, bitchlet. This is really affecting you that much? I mean, don’t you know what it’s like to have sex with the avocado too? With that in mind, surely there’s nothing to be worried about-”

Rantaro’s mouth dropped open in embarrassment and indignation. Kokichi was the one to answer:

“For fuck’s sake, we didn’t have sex, Miu! We were  _ twelve years old _ and dated for maybe four months. Typical middle school relationship.”

Rantaro yawned and mumbled something that sounded really similar to, ‘ _ Yeah and also Kokichi was in love with the emo kid the whole time _ .’

Kokichi sat up, turning angrily to Rantaro, “Yeah, and I’m just now finding out that he wasn’t disinterested because of my  _ gender _ , but because he was crushing on one of our mutual friends. Probably the whole time. Was he? Huh? Answer me, Rantaro, how long did you know? Did you just take advantage of him or something?”

Rantaro’s jaw clenched and he stared back at Kokichi mutely.

“Kokichi. Stop,” Miu said tersely from where she was sitting, watching the exchange. Immediately, the fight drained from Kokichi and he slumped over into Rantaro. The green haired man exhaled, accepting the Kokichi-esque half-apology.

“What was it like?” Kokichi mumbled from where his forehead was pressed against Rantaro’s upper arm. He lifted his head and looked up at Rantaro. Miu made a gagging noise.

Rantaro’s face scrunched in a mix of confusion, caution, and embarrassment, “Do you seriously want me to tell you what Saihara’s like in b-”

“ _ No!”  _ Kokichi hissed, “No. I just meant.” He turned away from Miu and Rantaro, who were looking at him like he was an infant trying to get out his first words.

“Him watching- Knowing that he was just- I don’t know. Looking at you. What was it like to have him be looking at you? Just, how did it feel?” Kokichi asked quietly.

Miu and Rantaro exchanged a Look before Rantaro responded.

“You might know what that’s like alread-”

“I  _ don’t _ ,” Kokichi huffed, pushing himself off of Rantaro, “I don’t, I don’t, I  _ don’t _ . He  _ doesn’t _ look at me like that. How do I know? Because  _ I’m _ the one looking at him. Always. If he looked at me like that we’d be making eye contact right when I look. But  _ we don’t! _ I just fucking stare at him like an actual loser. Fuck.  _ Fuck.” _

Miu’s hand tentatively came up to pet through Kokichi’s hair while he scrubbed at his eyes with his fists.

“I thought I was done crying over some stupid fuckin’...” He said between breaths. Miu grit her teeth sadly. Rantaro just watched, with his hands behind him on the bed to prop himself up.

The minutes ticked by, and Kokichi’s crying slowly became less vocal and more of a resigned stream of tears. Rantaro’s portable fan ghosted the fake leaves along his wall, making a soft brushing sound to accompany Kokichi’s heavy breathing.

“I did something really stupid,” Kokichi said finally, through uneven breaths and hiccups. Rantaro narrowed his eyes in concern.

“Something so stupid that you  _ recognize _ that it was stupid?” Miu asked, lightly shocked. Kokichi nodded quietly.

“I made him a playlist. Actually I’m still doing it. On the anonymous site he created. I sent it to him and I’m updating it with songs that remind me of him. Or my feelings for him. Or just- us. He’s taking it really seriously,” Kokichi breathed.

Miu’s eyes widened, “Sorry to be Sherlock fucking Holmes here, but he’s a  _ detective _ Kokichi. He’s going to find out.”

Kokichi scrunched his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands.

“I don’t know how to keep updating it without letting him know,” he mourned. Rantaro finally spoke up:

“Then  _ don’t _ keep updating it. It’s really simple, man.”

Kokichi breathed out, and goosebumps ran down his arms and legs.

“I don’t want to stop.”

Rantaro rolled his eyes and dropped a hand on Kokichi’s head fondly, “Yeah, of course you don’t.”

Kokichi frowned, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rantaro smiled and shook his head sadly. 

“Whatever, weirdo. You guys just have to be damage control when he inevitable  _ kicks me out of the fucking apartment _ .”

Miu pressed her lips together, “You don’t know for sure that he’d reject you, though.”

“Yes I dooo, Miss Robot-Cum Dumpster. Anyway, I want to  _ stop _ talking about this. Fuck being vulnerable, right? Tell me about what’s going on with Mr. Worldwide and his lovely Brit,” Kokichi drawled. Rantaro harumphed but sat up straighter. Kokichi found himself grinning at Rantaro’s emphatic gesticulations while describing his girlfriend out West.

\----

“But it’s my birthday soon!” Kokichi whined. Shuichi rolled his eyes from where he was sitting on his bed.

“Your birthday isn’t until June. It’s literally February, Kokichi. Plus, a house party is very different from a birthday party.” The boy in question was hanging onto the side of Shuichi’s door frame, now with tears falling from his eyes.

“I’m just so bored, Shuichi is so boooring,” Kokichi sobbed. Shuichi scoffed and shut his computer to face Kokichi.

“We can do something else? Like, um-”

“Game night,” Kokichi said, suddenly tearless and standing in the doorway sturdily. Shuichi blinked and nodded after a second.

“Okay, as long as you don’t invite too many people,” Shuichi conceded. Kokichi pumped his fists like the Bokuto stan he was and flashed a peace sign before skipping away from Shuichi’s room to get his phone. 

Shuichi semi-consciously scratched the side of his head while he waited for Kokichi to come back. A few seconds later, the hand scratching his face came up to block (or catch) the tiny figure barreling towards him.

“Oh my- Not even a think fast?” Shuichi wheezed as Kokichi slammed into the detective. Kokichi just yawned and opened his phone while Shuichi pushed the kinesiologist off of his abdomen.

“Alright, I’m thinkin’ Miu, Rantaro, Kii-boy, and Maki. Sound good?” Kokichi looked up at Shuichi while laying on his stomach, kicking his feet behind him.

“Kichi,” Shuichi crossed his arms. Kokichi just stared at Shuichi, unblinking. The detective stared back as well, competitive spirit flaring within him at the impromptu don’t-blink match. After a few seconds, Kokichi blew at Shuichi’s face, causing the bluenette to blink.

“Ugh, come on Kichi,” Shuichi grumbled in good spirit.

Kokichi coughed daintily, “Alright,  _ alright _ no need to continue  _ cajoling _ me, good sir! I shall invite Kaito as well.” Shuichi smiled and rolled his eyes.

“Oh! Actually, can we invite somebody I met at university?” Shuichi looked at Kokichi hopefully. The purplenette frowned.

“Why?”

Shuichi’s eyes drifted to the wall, and his head tilted with the motion, “There’s someone in my Enforcement Function class that...  _ interests _ me, I guess.”

“How so?”

Kokichi’s words were noticeable sharp, and Shuichi looked back at the purplenette.

“Well, he’s funny, and he has nice hands, and whenever he talks to me I listen because I kinda- I just don’t want to do anything else. He just has this way of, I don’t know, like- keeping my attention? I’d like to learn more about him.”

Kokichi turned away, “Yeah, invite him or whatever. As long as he doesn’t move in with us.”

Shuichi laughed uncomfortably, “What?”

“Well, you do have a tendency to move pretty fast with relationships,” Kokichi’s eyes pinned Shuichi in place.

“...”

Kokichi slapped the bed on either side of himself and stood, “Ah, I’m gonna go look at some possible gam-”

“I barely mentioned anything about him, and  _ none _ of it was in a romantic context? I said he was  _ interesting _ , not that I’m  _ interested _ . Seriously, Kokichi, if I didn’t know that you’re just worried about losing me as a roommate, I’d think you were a jealous housewife. Or something. I don’t know, ugh.”

Kokichi glared back at Shuichi for a second before looking away and letting his shoulders fall, “I don’t know why I was angry. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m jealous of how easily you make friends or something.”

Shuichi looked at Kokichi in disbelief before falling back on the bed with laughter. A smile grew on Kokichi’s lips, an infection of Shuichi’s laughter. Shuichi brought his palms up to rub at his eyes while he wheezed.

“Me, the king of social anxiety, having an easy time making friends? Kichi I-” Shuichi pushed himself up to his elbows to look at Kokichi, who had flopped back onto the bed and propped himself up on his stomach to look at Shuichi mock-seriously, “You’re  _ radiant _ , Kokichi. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who could make the entire world stop and stare like you do. You have nothing to be jealous of, trust me.”

Kokichi didn’t respond, and the mock-serious expression changed, multiple emotions rushing across Kokichi’s face in a split second before his eyes settled on that one emotion that Shuichi couldn’t put a name to, but felt safe with. The detective held his gaze with an honest smile until Kokichi yawned dramatically.

“Ugh, whatever, Shumai.”

Shuichi smiled lopsidedly, “Also, I was just  _ intrigued _ by this guy (that better?) because I thought he might be the one making the playlist.”

Kokichi blinked lazily, “Yeah? What makes you think that?” Shuichi dropped his face to the comforter.

“Ugh, don’t laugh at me,” Kokichi was not laughing, but Shuichi continued anyway, “he kinda seems like he’s- um. Like. Possibly into me? He gives off that vibe. Also the second song on the playlist- Best Friend? It went along with something he’s said before. It was basically like, ‘oh, we could be such close friends so easily’. And he’s kind of pessimistic so Rose-Colored Boy could also fit. He’s super adamant about ‘connection’ with people. He’s also asexual, and it really doesn’t bother me. It’s so strange. Or maybe I’m just projecting this whole thing and I’m actually just attracted to him and his hands and his whole mask thing. Eugh, is that weird?” At the end of his rant, Shuichi looked up at Kokichi. His roommate was looking intently at the wall with glossed-over eyes and the dregs of a smile that seemed to have half-washed off.

“What’re you thinking? Doing some detective work yourself? Did I give you enough evidence?” Shuichi asked lightly, poking the side of Kokichi’s face from where he lay in front of the kinesiologist. Kokichi jolted away from the touch and blinked, looking at Shuichi clearly.

“I dunno. About what you said, I guess. He sounds… interesting. Like you said. Is that all?”

Shuichi frowned, “Yeah, but what’s wrong?” Kokichi shrugged half-playfully while he got up from the bed.

“Nothin’, I’m just kinda tired all of the sudden,” as if to punctuate the statement, he yawned. Shuichi watched him silently for a few seconds, brain working at hyperspeed, before reaching out to grab Kokichi’s wrist. Or, more around his palm. Not that it really mattered, or that Shuichi had been aiming for somewhere specific, but he happened to have a slight bit of human error in how he made his attempt to stop Kokichi from leaving. Ugh, shut  _ up _ , overanalytic brain.

“You know you’re my best friend, right?” Shuichi said honestly. Kokichi just let himself be held in place instead of responding.

Shuichi pushed on, “I would pick you a million times over somebody else. You’re trustworthy, okay? You’re worth it to me, and nobody I ever meet can change the fact that you are, and always will be my best friend.”

Kokichi swallowed, and Shuichi bit his tongue.

“Fuck you, Shumai. I know,” Kokichi responded hoarsely. Shuichi smiled, relieved, and let go of Kokichi’s hand. The latter was out of Shuichi’s room before even glancing back. Shuichi hummed to himself and opened his computer before remembering their original objective.

“Kichi?” He raised his voice instead of walking into Kokichi’s room.

It took a moment for Kokichi to respond.

“Yeah?”

“Just let me know what night we’re doing games,” Shuichi called. The lack of response seemed to resonate affirmation.

A few minutes later, a text pinged on his screen. 

[8:03] Kichi:  _ next saturday _ _ at  _ _ 5:00pm _ _ sound good? everyone’s down. even stinky astronaut man :P _

[8:04] Sent:  _ Cool, yeah. _

Shuichi went to type out a ‘Thank you’ when another notification blinked onto his screen.

Spotify: [user54244 added a song to a playlist you’re following.]

Excitement hummed inside Shuichi’s head as he clicked on the notification. What were the lyrics going to be like? Was this actually Korekiyo from his class? He paused when he saw the title of the song.

Hm.

He pulled up the lyrics on his computer and clicked on the song. The electro beat was kind of nice- oh. The lyrics... The longer the song went on, the higher Shuichi’s eyebrows rose, and the redder his blush became. This was certainly a song. With lyrics. Shuichi read through the rest of the lyrics quickly before laying back down and listening to the rest of the song quietly. Admittedly, it had a nice beat, and it was pretty catchy. For the playlist-maker, who was so specific in lyric choice, though, it had caught Shuichi quite off guard. Once it finished, Shuichi took a deep breath and clicked on some different music to calm him down. Not that he was  _ that _ kind of excited from a song from a random stranger- well, okay. It was a little bit of a thrill, receiving something like that, but for all Shuich knew, this person was middle aged and creepy as hell. The detective frowned and looked back at the contents of the small playlist. The middle age theory was highly _ unlikely _ , but still possible.

\----

Shuichi brought it up over dinner. After swallowing a piece of tofu, he spoke to Kokichi without really turning his head.

“There was an addition to the playlist. Y’know, the one the random person keeps updating.”

Kokichi furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head in apparent curiosity.

“It was like,” Shuichi looked around their apartment irrationally, “a  _ sexual _ song. Definitely not what I was expecting.”

Kokichi shook with silent laughter, near choking on his food.

“Shumai,” he said, finally having swallowed, “maybe they’re just horny right now. Random people on the internet who are obsessed with you enough to make a playlist must think about you like that sometimes.”

Shuichi grimaced and twirled a plain noodle around his fork on his plate, “No, no I know. This just. Well, I guess it means it’s not who I thought it was. The guy in my course?”

Kokichi looked down at his plate while he chewed.

“Yeah? Why?” He asked through a mouthful of rice.

Shuichi scratched his head and sat back in his chair, “Ah, well, he’s asexual. So, I doubt that he’d put a song like that on the playlist.”

Kokichi nodded slowly, “Yeah, okay that makes sense. You’re still allowed to, I dunno,” he looked at the microwave absently, gesturing in the air, “have feelings for him or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi sighed, “but I don’t.” Kokichi raised his eyebrows but just nodded instead of a verbal response.

\----

Shuichi breathed in the certain smell of a familiar car as he pushed the gear into drive and undid the emergency break. A simple Friday afternoon with no classes was all the detective needed to beat Kokichi to groceries for the week. Giving Kokichi the opportunity to buy the menu while their friends were coming over had quickly become something that Shuichi avoided.

Unless their friends actually  _ liked _ drinking Panta and nothing else.

The lack of cars on the street at 8am wasn’t exactly unexpected, but it wasn’t unwelcomed either. Shuichi arrived at the supermarket in record time, and got out of his car briskly. Confidence in public was key. Also, not looking anyone in the eyes.

“Excuse me sir, would you like to support my basketball team by buying one of our chocolates?”

Shuichi turned to the boy sitting in front of the carts, startled. The boy’s arms were sitting inside his shirt, giving the slight illusion that he didn’t have any arms in the first place. Realistically, the boy was probably just cold. And Shuichi should probably say something.

“Ah, I- Sure. How much do they cost?” Shuichi stuttered, feeling bad for standing there like an idiot for a beat too long.

The boy smiled cordially, “Three hundred yen, please. We have caramel, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, and raspberry.”

“Which one do you think is the sweetest?”

The boy’s smile faltered for a second, and Shuichi internally panicked, thinking his question had come across as flirtatious somehow. Great, now he was the creepy older guy talking to a 12 year old kid who probably just wanted to gather funds for his basketball team. Maybe this was why he usually let Kokichi do the chocolate. The shopping. Fuck, not the chocolate. Kokichi usually did the shopp-

“I think caramel is probably the best, because it’s milk chocolate  _ and _ caramel. Double sugar, y’know?” The boy finally responded. Shuichi smiled in relief.

“Great, I’ll take that one.”

As the boy handed him his chocolate, and Shuichi handed him the money and started towards the supermarket doors. Kokichi did like milk chocolate, Shuichi remembered after a moment. And honestly, with him, the sweeter the better. 

The store smelled like flowers and milk combined - the usual supermarket smell - and the radio softly played some pop song that Shuichi hadn’t bothered to listen to when released. Shuichi looked ahead of himself while he walked, nodding shakily at anyone who smiled his way. An improvement, from his former self, from when he used to be unable to look anywhere but the ground in front of him while in public. 

With minimal tripping-on-nothing, Shuichi made it to the snack aisle. And then he realized he’d forgotten to grab a cart.

\----

Shuichi exhaled as he sat back down in the front of the car. Groceries well secured in the trunk, the detective sat with his hands on the steering wheel for a few moments before starting the car up. Driving home, Shuichi let himself wander through the feeling that was sonder, creating an entire childhood story for the person driving in front of him. Why was their license plate frame studded with fake gems? Why didn’t they have bumper stickers? Shuichi glanced over at them as he passed, seeing just a normal teenage girl driving. Okay, maybe it’s a little weird to be nosey on the highway, but at least he wasn’t  _ actually _ asking people about themselves. Shuichi just liked to think.

And think he did. Before he knew it, the detective was pulling into the apartment complex parking. Shuichi stretched while he waited for the automatic trunk door to open, before taking the grocery bags and walking inside. Upon entry, Shuichi was met with a fuming Kokichi. Granted, Shuichi vaguely knew why he was fuming, but still. Kokichi clenched and unclenched his fists before stomping over to Shuichi and grabbing the groceries from him. Shuichi let him.

“I feel like a girl who had a one night stand that got up and left the bed all cold on her before she even had the chance to wake up,” Kokichi huffed as he brought the groceries over to the counter. Shuichi paused for a good few seconds.

Shuichi broke into peals of unbridled laughter, “Kichi,  _ what? _ ” Kokichi’s perfect poker face allowed him to glare grumpily back at Shuichi while he sorted the groceries into the cabinets. 

“At least let me pay you back,” Kokichi groaned after closing the last cabinet. Shuichi smiled, prepared, and took the candy out of his pocket.

“Sure, sure, you can pay me back by enjoying this chocolate I bought for you,” Shuichi sing-songed. Kokichi’s face lit up before he stopped and fixed Shuichi with a glare.

“You manipulative bastard.”

Shuichi laughed and held the chocolate out to Kokichi, “Takes one to know one, Kichi.” The purplenette begrudgingly snatched the candy and stalked over to the counter. Shuichi watched in amusement while Kokichi flattened the paper out with an attitude.

“What’ve you got there?”

Kokichi flicked his annoyed gaze to Shuichi before responding, “I made a list of games we could play on game night, and they aren’t  _ all _ video games because I know you don’t like staring at a screen for  _ too _ long.”

Shuichi bowed his head a little and walked over to take the paper from Kokichi.

_ > GTA _

_ > Minecraft _

_ > Kirby’s Dream Collection _

_ > Super Smash Bros _

_ > Mario Kart Deluxe _

_ > LIFE _

_ > Candyland _

_ > Headbandz (tentative, because Shuichi would fucking crush everyone) _

“I didn’t know we had all of these, but it sounds great,” Shuichi laughing a little at the candid note. Kokichi nodded before saluting Shuichi and retreating back to his room.

Without the candy, Shuichi noted. Alright Mr. Petty.

\----

Waking up in the middle of the night to being shaken aggressively isn’t the best formula for calm Shuichi. The person waking him up appeared to know this, seeing as they didn’t flinch when Shuichi growled.

“What the fuck do you want?”

The shadowy person covered Shuichi’s mouth, “Shhh, it’s just me- hey! Stop, it’s just me!” Shuichi stopped his attempt to push Kokichi off of him and turned his head towards the clock on his nightstand.

…  _ 2:30am. _

“Kichi, whaaat,” Shuichi groaned as he dragged his hands down his face. Kokichi took a step (or more like, wiggled on his knees) back on the bed.

“I wanna fish!!!”

Shuichi looked up, “You want to do  _ what _ ?”

“No, I want A fish! Singular! Would you promise to get me a fish pretty please? Pleaaaase,” Kokichi whispered excitedly. Shuichi looked at him for a moment, fully shadowed save for the meager light thrown across by Shuichi’s digital clock.

“Alright, whatever, I promise,” Shuichi’s tired brain placated, “just let me sleep now.” Kokichi nodded and booped Shuichi’s nose in gratitude before fucking off to wherever he was sleeping. Shuichi settled back into his pillow and drifted back to sleep.

\----

Shuichi looked away from the pan of eggs with a yawn, “What are you talking about?” Kokichi scoffed indignantly and walked right up to Shuichi, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“You promised me we’d get a fish.  _ Pro-mised. _ You can’t go back from that!” Shuichi’s held fell back as he mourned whatever atrocity his ancestors may have committed for him to be living like this.

“Yeah, I don’t remember-” Shuichi held his free hand up before Kokichi could bite back with a rebuttal, “ _ but _ . I will go with you to get one today. Let’s at least eat breakfast first, okay?”

Kokichi nodded and went to grab the other things Shuichi needed for breakfast, dancing a little when he seemed to think Shuichi wasn’t looking. The detective laughed to himself, and Kokichi upped his dancing upon realizing Shuichi saw him, twirling as he handed the seasoning over. Shuichi took it, imitating some old-fashioned person and bowing with a funny accent. Kokichi grinned and laughed at the display, and Shuichi caught the infectious smile.

\----

Shuichi definitely felt like a mom who was regretting the absence of a child leash as he and Kokichi walked (if what Kokichi was doing could be considered walking) through PetSmart. Granted, nobody was actually looking at them strangely, and the anxiety Shuichi felt was probably just his internalized fear of being perceived as ‘off’, but still. 

“Kokichi, this is the dog food section. Fish are on the other side of the store,” Shuichi chided. Kokichi airplaned around to look at Shuichi.

“Yeah, but I’m seeing how much I can embarrass you before you snap and drag me to the fish. That’s always the fun part,” Kokichi grinned, bringing a finger to his mouth. Shuichi gaped before shoving his hat down, turning heel, and walking to the fish tanks. Kokichi’s laughter faded for a little while before the soft footfalls of the kinesiologist matched Shuichi’s own, a small distance behind him. 

“Alright, do you know what type of fish you want?” Shuichi stopped and glanced back at Kokichi, who was peering into a tank.

Kokichi hummed absently, “This one’s got blue, like your hair. And gold like your eyes- oh! And it has black eyeliner!” Shuichi furrowed his eyebrows indignantly at the comparison before actually looking at the fish.

Huh. Kokichi wasn’t lying, it did have the color scheme.

“I want this one,” Kokichi decided. Shuichi shrugged and looked at the price tag. 1.5k yen wasn’t too bad for a sturgeon fish.

The cashier was pleasant while Shuichi apologetically bought the fish, with Kokichi hanging off of his arm. Once the fish, a small tank, food, and other decorations that Kokichi insisted on (‘Who wants their fish to suffer in a bland tank? Gosh, Shumai is  _ heartless _ .’) had been scanned and paid for, the two were on their way back to the car.

“What are you thinking of naming it?” Shuichi asked as he buckled himself in. Kokichi made a playful thinking face.

A dramatic gasp, then: “I’ll name it Shumai!” Shuichi coughed, suddenly choking on air.

“No- What? Ki- Huh? Kichi?”

“Shu, I was kidding. Holy shit,” Kokichi huffed in mild hilarity. Shuichi exhaled and started the car. Kokichi leaned his seat back and looked at the fish in the bag intensely.

“Mmmm… could we name it Jasmine?” Shuichi suggested, glancing over, “The color scheme is like the princess, don’t you think?”

Kokichi squinted even more then smiled, “No, why don’t we name it Jazz! I don’t want to agree with one of your suggestions.”

“Because of your individuality complex?”

“Because of my individuality complex,” Kokichi chirped. Shuichi laughed and shook his head.

Somehow, he felt like he would be the one taking care of the fish for the most part.

\----

“Did you seriously put on a nice outfit for a livestream to show off a fish,” Kokichi deadpanned. Shuichi looked down at himself: black ripped jeans, white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up, chain belt. It wasn’t anything  _ super _ fancy. Shuichi had been certifiably emo- Kokichi’s jabs were supported by real events.

“Are you trying to say that I dress like, badly, usually?” Shuichi asked. Kokichi looked Shuichi up and down for a second longer, tilting his head to the side. It wasn’t like Kokichi was dressed super casually: he wore a purple sweater over a white collar, and dark jeans. 

“Hmm… yes. I am. I feel like if you’re going to go  _ this _ far, just go all the way. Chains, spikes, pull out your demonias. Go ahead, emo boy,” Kokichi drawled. Shuichi rolled his eyes for the millionth time that day and walked over to the couch. The livestream camera had been set up a little farther back, so that Kokichi could properly show off the new fish.

Kokichi adjusted the phone, then sat back with his arms behind his head. “Alright Mr. Thirst Trap, are you ready to go?”

Shuichi huffed and nodded. Kokichi pressed the ‘Live’ button, and Shuichi watched the little countdown with anxiety to spare.

**_@detective.saihara is now LIVE!_ **

Shuichi smiled and subconsciously reached for a hat that wasn’t there. Only a head of strategically-styled blue hair and a damn cowlick that wouldn’t go down no matter  _ what _ Shuichi tried.

“Hi everyone,” Shuichi started once people started to join, “Kichi insisted on a live today, so I guess the main reason we’re here is to show off our new fish-”

“But if you’d like to ask questions, that’s toootally okay too,” Kokichi added. Shuichi dipped his head a little, grateful for Kokichi’s rescue from one of his embarrassed ramble sessions.

“Kichi, why don’t you tell them about the fish, since you literally woke me up in the middle of the night to ask,” Shuichi looked over at Kokichi. The purplenette was a natural in the spotlight, smiling and explaining the story with animated hands and expressions. Shuichi watched him shine through the room, drawing any attention that might be drifting around in the atmosphere directly to what he was saying. A feeling in Shuichi’s chest arose that he’d long previously dubbed, ‘awe,’ and the detective just watched.

“So now Jazz lives in our living room. This is her! She looks like Shuichi a little in terms of color scheme, heh.”

The chat had filled with excitement over the story, little meme quips, and gushing adoration for the fish.

“Oh, I guess the question feature was automatically on, huh,” Shuichi noticed the little purple pop-up occur. Kokichi tapped on it to maximize the text, and read.

“Paul_wolf616 asked: ‘Would you guys ever stream something like Kahoot or Jackbox? Just a suggestion.’ Hmm,” Kokichi looked over at Shuichi, “I’d be down for that, but I’m not too sure about Mr. I-Burn-Out-Socially-In-Two-Minutes over here…”

“Kichi,” Shuichi hissed indignantly, “Don’t tell them that I’m bad at socializing!”

Kokichi threw his head back and cackled, “Shuichi, you’re on a fucking  _ livestream _ , they can  _ hear you _ .” Shuichi turned red and waved awkwardly at the camera. Really, he was hopeless.

“Oh, oh we got another one. Yeah, guys feel free to use the question function we’re here to answer questions,” Kokichi turned his attention back to the live.

Shuichi took it as his turn to read, “kenma.kinnie.cass asked: ‘Why do you want to be a detective?’ Or- roughly that. Honestly, I don’t know if I really need to read the emojis, since you guys can see them anyw-”

Kokichi cleared his throat, “I got this one, Shumai. So! Really, Shuichi has been built to be a detective from the get-go. I don’t mean that ironically, either. Since elementary school, he’s been the one to notice things out of place, or when someone’s lying. I mean,  _ I _ couldn’t pull the wool over his eyes. That’s fuckin’ sayin’ something, really. Also, he’s got this complex where he needs to understand all angles of a case before he makes a decision, which you’d think would be a hindrance but in reality just boosts his comprehension of, like,  _ everything _ . He’s really fuckin’ cool, guys. And you can always tell when he’s trying to figure something out - like someone’s true intentions - because he gets this specific look on his face. It’s probably the face he’s making now, because he doesn’t understand why I’m blatantly being so nice. And now he’s probably gone all red.” After finishing his spiel, Kokichi looked over to find Shuichi’s face mirroring his predictions.

“Maybe  _ you _ should be the real detective, since you spend so much time memorizing my facial expressions,” Shuichi shot back weakly. Kokichi just grinned and looked back at the camera, holding his palms out as if to say, ‘See? Told ya.’

Kokichi hadn’t been  _ wrong _ , per se, in that he had been on point about Shuichi’s expressions. However, Shuichi knew the purplenette very well, and he wasn’t so much preoccupied with the reasons Kokichi had for being nice (the gremlin could be nice when he wanted to. Really, Shuichi would know.) but rather  _ when _ Kokichi had paid that much attention to him.

Although, it wasn’t that bothersome. Shuichi probably knew just as much about Kokichi: they lived together. It just caught the detective off-guard, someone, a friend, admitting to paying attention to him. And…

It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling.

\----

Sunday was a typical full-stay-home day, which meant Shuichi was compulsively cleaning, and Kokichi was helping as best he could.

“Hey Kichi, could you go grab another rag from the bathroom for me?” Shuichi asked, bent over the sink. Kokichi gave a boy-scout salute from the corner of his vision, and walked out of the room.

Shuichi got maybe six more square inches of cleaning done before Kokichi came back in, uncharacteristically quiet and accompanied by a ringing phone.

“Oh, is that mine?” Shuichi looked back at Kokichi. The purplenette nodded solemnly and handed the phone to Shuichi.

Upon seeing the screen, Shuichi almost dropped the device.

“If you want to decline, you can Shu. You don’t owe them anything,” Kokichi tried. Shuichi shook his head, still staring down at the phone call from his mother. He took a steadying breath before answering the phone.

“Hey, Mom.”

_ ‘Oh, Shuichi, my sweet boy! How have you been doing, love?” _

Ugh, cut the crap already please.

“I’ve been doing pretty well! How about you?” Shuichi cringed at the formality laced within what should have been a familiar conversation.

_ ‘Ah, you know the drills. Photoshoots, script-readings, recordings, shows, all the things.’ _

“Actually, I wouldn’t know the drills, since this is the first time you’ve called me since I was 16 years old.”

Shit. So much for being cordial.

_ ‘Shuichi, dear, there’s no need for contention. In fact, I think you should be very happy! Your father and I have seen that you’re finally embracing the public eye! Those little streams you do are simply divine. I haven’t seen one, but I’ve heard good things!’ _

“Oh, haha,” Shuichi nearly itched in awkwardness and anger, “Yeah, it’s fun.” Shuichi glanced over at Kokichi, who was listening to half the exchange from the kitchen table. The detective walked over to sit down next to him, and clicked speakerphone. Kokichi smiled comfortingly.

_ ‘Have you moved farther with that sweet girl? I’d say marriage would be the next step.’ _

Oh, wow. Shuichi’s chest constricted and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked back up, Kokichi’s smile had dropped. The expression he wore was too complicated for Shuichi to analyze.

Shiuchi swallowed, “Kaede died in freshman year, Mom. Oh wait, I should probably clarify. I am in  _ sophomore _ year of  _ college _ this year, and my  _ ex-girlfriend _ died of  _ breast cancer _ a  _ year ago. _ It’s so nice to know you’ve been keeping up with me, really. I don’t know how you even found out about Kaede, and I don’t really care. I just want to know why you’re calling.”

_ ‘Your father and I are coming to Japan soon, and we expected you to welcome us. I don’t know what’s going on with you, young man. Are you still hanging around that horrible kid?” _

Shuichi grit his teeth and willed himself to maintain calm once again, “What ‘kid’?”

_ ‘That gay kid. The one that your uncle let run amok in his house. Have you lost contact with him yet?’ _

Shuichi didn’t have to glance at Kokichi to know that his face was perfectly blank, impassive.

“Why do you care?”

_ ‘Oh, honey, you know I just don’t want him rubbing off on you! You’re such a smart boy, and you never had any weird ‘phases’ like all of your friends. I’d just like to see that hold true until you marry the right girl.’ _

“Right. Thank you, by the way, for your condolences about Kaede and your sheer  _ interest _ in what may have happened. I am happy to inform you that I am, in fact,  _ living _ with Kokichi now. And it’s been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I will not listen to you spew crap about my roommate and childhood friend.”

_ ‘Sweetheart, were the things I read about the live true?’ _

Shuichi’s vision was glazed in anger, and he barely had time to breathe before he spat, “What?”

_ ‘They… Oh, this just pains me to say. They were saying you were gay or something. And- and they were saying you were dating your roommate? I assumed that was Kaede, but… Honey, you’ve always been interested in girls. Don’t tell me this little creep changed your mind?’ _

Kokichi’s chair squeaked minutely as he got up. The purplenette picked his keys up wordlessly and left the apartment. Shuichi couldn’t catch a glimpse of his face, nor could he aggressively get up, lest his mom get even more ‘worried’. Shuichi sat back down calmly and took a moment to compose himself.

_ ‘Dear?’ _

“Listen up,  _ Mom _ ,” Shuichi half-snarled, half-stuttered, “I don’t care if you come to Japan. I will let you stay in my house, but I will  _ not _ tolerate you saying anything about my roommate. As I said before, Kokichi is one of the best things to ever happen in my life- quite unlike  _ you _ . In fact, Kokichi has been more involved than you two have, times  _ five _ . Kokichi will not be temporarily moving out for you two. If you refuse to stay here, you can get a hotel. It’s the least you can do, seeing as you missed my entire childhood- my entire  _ life. _ ”

Good, end it with the guilt trip.

_ ‘I- Okay, Shuu-chan. We’ll be coming down in a few weeks, and I will email you the exact date. I assume you still have my email address saved. I can’ t wait to see you!’ _

“Yeah. One more thing. I  _ am _ bisexual. I had sex with a guy, and it wasn’t half bad. See, I know you think you know me, but you’ve missed, mmm,  _ nineteen _ years of my life. Can’t wait to see you too, mommy!” Shuichi forced as much sickly sweet enthusiasm he could into his voice on the last part, before slamming his thumb to the end call button. Dropping his phone, the detective ran his hands down his face. Looking back down at his phone after a solid minute, Shuichi decided to call his uncle.

***

After being marginally gaslighted and slightly calmed down by his uncle, Shuichi was pacing the living room. The front door creaked open, and Kokichi stepped into the apartment accompanied by the crinkling of a shopping bag.

“Hey Kichi, I’m really sorry about what my mom was sa-”

Kokichi sighed, “Don’t even worry about it. Here.” The purplenette held a thick book out to Shuichi. The detective took it graciously and lit up upon turning it over.

“Kokichi, holy shit, this is so cool!” Shuichi said excitedly, clutching the special edition mystery novel. Kokichi smiled and threw his hands behind his head cockily.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw it in the window and thought you might like it. Glad you did.” Shuichi smiled down at the book and placed it on the couch arm before pulling Kokichi into a hug. Kokichi tensed up before relaxing and hugging Shuichi back. The detective rested his head on top of Kokichi’s, looking at the door.

Shuichi mumbled, “I’m sorry my parents’ asshole-ness has somehow spread to someone like you.”

“I’m sorry your parents are pieces of shit. I hate how she talks to you,” Kokichi responded in a small voice. Shuichi laughed and rubbed circles into Kokichi’s back.

“Yeah, they’re homophobic, and detached, and everything I don’t want you to have to see.”

Kokichi exhaled, “Don’t want me to see because why? Suuure, I hate Shumai now because his parents are fucking twats. Haha, yolo, life is strange. Whatever. Right?  _ How stupid would that be _ .”

Shuichi turned his head into Kokichi’s hair and smiled, relaxing in the feeling of someone who was truly there. When Kokichi’s grip on the back of his shirt loosened a little, Shuichi let go.

“Okay, go hole up in your room and finish that book in an hour,” Kokichi teased. Shuichi scoffed good-naturedly and grabbed his new book from the couch arm. 

After sitting down on his bed and taking his phone out of his pocket, Shuichi went to pull up his reading playlist when he noticed a new addition to the anonymous playlist. Hm. Weird.

Wait, wait wait wait. Another song.  _ Another song! _ Shuichi scrabbled to open the playlist and shove his earbuds in. The song was titled, ‘False Confidence’ and was by an artist named Noah Kahan. Shuichi pulled up the lyrics with slightly shaking hands, as had become routine, and clicked play from the pull down menu. 

As the song went on, the message became clearer and sort of… familiar? Shuichi let the song finish before processing. False confidence, building someone else up when you really need to work on yourself. In all honesty, the song sort of reminded him of things Kaede would say- but she was dead. There’s no way a dead girl could be making a playlist for Shuichi. The detective shuddered. Maybe it  _ was _ someone he knew? Shuichi scanned through all of the familiar faces, from Kaito to Rantaro to Kokichi to Himiko at the coffee place near college. None of them seemed to fit the profile all too well. Actually, maybe…?

No, that was stupid. Shuichi doubted that  _ he _ would make a playlist like that instead of just confessing. Shuichi would just have to wait for more. And keep his eyes peeled. Maybe he would say something on live? The detective shook the hypothetical mess of thoughts from his head. Cracking open the book, Shuichi reflected on what had been meant to be a calm Sunday.

In the kitchen, Kokichi silently continued to clean the sink that Shuichi had abandoned by mistake. Not that he minded, at all. Anything for Shumai!

_ Yikes, that’s not even funny anymore. Shit’s too real. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kichi wtf are u DOING  
> \----  
> my tumblr: plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com  
> my ask box is always open: https://plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com/ask


	5. video games - the young professionals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach, video games, midnight concerts <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, its been a while, huh?  
> enjoy <3

On Friday, Shuichi found Kokichi in the living room, laid on his back across the couch with his eyes shut. He had drawn the curtains - clearly - and the only light spilling into the room was from the kitchen, where the citrusy neon was running laps in its plastic cage on the ceiling. The TV was playing some obscure MTV emo band, and Shuichi attempted to hold back a laugh. A violet eye cracked open at the detective’s failure, and Kokichi yawned dramatically.

“What’s the news, Holmes?”

Shuichi took the remote and turned down the TV volume while he responded, “Someone actually challenged you to Mario Kart. I don’t know how plausible that is, though.”

Kokichi sat up excitedly, “Ask if they have Nintendo Switch Online!”

“Kichi. They’re  _ Anonymous _ .”

Kokichi rolled his eyes aggressively, “And? You can respond to them anyway! Just have them drop a username and DM them for their Switch Friend Code.”

Shuichi scratched his head and scrunched his face, acqueising the notion that his eyeliner was, once-and-for-all at nine-o-clock-pm, ruined, “I feel like that’s creepy and violating though-”

“Okay listen. Just because you’re Mr. Impersonal doesn’t mean that somebody who is a big enough fan to  _ anonymously message you _ would be anything but  _ thrilled _ to receive attention from you.”

Shuichi dragged a hand down his face and continued walking towards the kitchen. Kokichi, bouncing on his heels, trailed behind him.

“You’d probably guessed, but everyone’s confirmed they’ll be coming tomorrow,” Kokichi chirped.

A sigh from Shuichi: “Which I’m assuming means Iruma will be arriving four hours early?”

Kokichi nodded, all smiles and bouncing hair.

“Just make sure she doesn’t bring any alcohol. We don’t want a repeat of last time,” Shuichi added.

Kokichi started laughing, “‘We?’ Speak for yourself, Shu, I personally would  _ love _ to see Miu sing Karaoke on the kitchen counter again. Seriously, that was one of the best things I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life.”

“Your best friend, in her underwear, singing Chandelier by Sia on our- my countertop, my marble pride and joy, with the other part of the vodka bottle in her hand is the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life?” Shuichi monotone.

Kokichi smiled innocently and nodded. Shuichi coughed something into his hand that sounded suspiciously like, ‘low standards.’ 

After taking a sip of the water he had gone into the kitchen for in the first place, Shuichi turned around to be faced with an excited Kokichi. The air had made a cut scene to charged and happy.

“You. Me. The beach,” Kokichi practically buzzed with energy, his hands balled up in fists in front of his chest. Shuichi watched his eyes sparkle in mild horror and anxiety.

“When?”

“ _ Now, _ ” was the only warning Shuichi got, before an insistent arm dragged him toward the door. Shuichi yelped, trying to catch his balance. Standing up straight as the door shut behind them, Shuichi took a deep breath. The edge of twilight crept into his irises and bounced around the corneas. Corners of the outside hallway cast shadows and tossed spells into the thrumming indigo air. A night that was young and naive twirled along the pavement, sweeping it’s calls and squealing laughter through the courtyard that skirted the apartment complex.

“Just felt like it?” he asked Kokichi, who had already begun the march toward the stairwell. Kokichi turned 90 degrees and tapped his nose, side-eyeing Shuichi, who huffed and walked faster to catch up.

“What else did I expect?”

\----

Shuichi’s hands made their way to his pockets as he watched Kokichi run across the sand. A tranquil, isolated beach, a smooth, unbroken turf, and a small, energetic boy were the subjects of a view painted in Shuichi’s mind. The reflection of dying bits of sunlight and newborn moonbeams on the ocean illuminated Kokichi’s figure, creating a silhouette. Shuichi blinked tiredly, watching the wind whip around Kokichi’s clothes.

Somehow, Kokichi had taken Shuichi’s emo ‘culture’ and created some real style out of it. In oversized black knee shorts cinched at the waist with a studded belt underneath a layered black-and-green long sleeve/graphic tee duo, the kinesiologist far surpassed any goals for fashion Shuichi had ever retained. The detective himself sat in an old worn long sleeve polo tucked into his second favorite pair of distressed jeans. He probably should have changed into something warmer, he noticed faintly as goosebumps washed along his legs and arms. Then again, Kokichi hadn’t really given him a chance.

Kokichi, who was now walking back towards him with significantly less gusto, signaling that Shuichi’s allotted time for ‘sitting on the stone wall and watching his roommate dance on the beach without actually participating’ had all been used up, and it was now time for him to be pulled towards the ocean

“Shu,” Kokichi whined as soon as he was in earshot, “come on! Don’t be such a grandpa. And take your fucking shoes off, jeez. You’re going to get sand all in your Docs- that’s a physically painful thought.”

Shuichi nodded exasperatedly as he untied his shoes and placed them on the stone wall. A shock bit through him as his bare feet hit the sand and sank a little, and Shuichi let out a squeak. Kokichi laughed and started back towards the open part of the beach.

Even as he got closer, Shuichi’s mind marvelled in how small Kokichi really was. The sand seemed to swallow him up, all of the bouncing and giggles and skipping. Without a conversation to express his personality and fill up the space around him, Kokichi was just… little. A nineteen year old shouldn’t be so tiny, Shuichi thought sadly. The urge to protect rose vaguely in the back of Shuichi’s consciousness before being pushed away as Kokichi’s words cut brightly through the thick ocean air.

“May I have this dance, emo boy?” Kokichi bowed deeply. Shuichi grinned lopsidedly and bowed back a little before taking Kokichi’s hand. The latter pulled up a playlist on his phone and shoved the device in his pocket before taking up a tango position with Shuichi.

“Oh, am I not the man?” Shuichi laughed. Kokichi just made his mock-haughty expression even haughtier. Little frothy waves blew kisses comprised of early morning grapefruit peels and citrus mist against the pair’s skin, as Shuichi stumbled over his own feet, or Kokichi squealed because he stepped on, ‘a damp bit of sand- I thought it was a fish or something!’ 

Curls of gray hair made their way into the night’s complexion and Shuichi found himself laying on the beach directly under the moon, listening to his college roommate giggle about someone in his Jazz elective forgetting what a chaîné was. Shuichi’s head rested on his arm as he relaxed on his side, smiling and humming in all the right places along to Kokichi’s story.

Once Kokichi’s eyes started to struggle to stay open, Shuichi sat up and dusted himself off, “Are you gonna need to be carried back to the car?”

Kokichi scratched his head, “Mm? No, I’m okay. I’ll drive.” Shuichi shook his head with a quirk of his lips as Kokichi’s head drooped.

“Alright, Aurora,” Shuichi said sarcastically while he bent down into a crouch, “Can you make it onto my back?” Kokichi complained quietly but did as Shuichi expected, throwing his arms haphazardly around Shuichi’s shoulders.

“‘M not even tired, Shuuumai,” Kokichi mumbled in Shuichi’s ear as the detective stood up, shifting Kokichi higher up on his back with a little bounce-jump.

“Just go to sleep, man. I’ll drive home. You are way too out of it for me to even consider putting my life and the steering wheel in your hands.”

Kokichi just nodded a couple times before relaxing even more. Shuichi shifted his hold a little to accommodate the extra dead weight as soft snoring drifted around Shuichi’s ears and into the beach-heavy air.

\----

Shuichi almost dropped the entire can of fish food into the fish tank when the door slammed open at high noon on Saturday.

“Worry less, the baddest bitch alive has arrived!” Miu cackled as she walked in. Kokichi appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eye and yawning.

“Oh, Shuichi, I didn’t know we hired a stripper for video game night!” Kokichi perked up when he recognized Miu. For the second time in five minutes, Shuichi nearly lost his grip on the fish food, right above the tank.

Miu made an obscene gesture at Kokichi before turning to Shuichi.

“Hey, virgin,” she called. Shuichi’s tongue poked out in concentration as he eyeballed the amount of food a fish should get. Upon clearing her throat and still receiving no response, Miu looked at Kokichi in kinda-ticked, kinda-amused concern. Kokichi just shrugged and walked up behind Shuichi quietly before digging his fingers into the detective’s sides and making a loud  _ ‘bzzz!’ _ sound effect. Shuichi, predictably, shrieked. This time, he  _ did _ drop the entire can of fish food into the tank. Shoulders drooping, Shuichi looked forlornly down at the little fish before turning his attention to Kokichi.

“Did you need something?” he sighed. Kokichi shook with silent laughter and pointed at Miu. Shuichi scrubbed at his face before waving at the inventor.

“You just killed your fuckin’ fish,” Miu commented idly. Shuichi groaned and put his head in his hands. Miu continued, “Regardless, all I wanted to say was that I did  _ not _ bring alcohol this time.”

“She brought fifteen dildos instead,” Kokichi stage whispered, “They’re all in her passenger’s seat, and she’s going to have to hide them before Kii-boy goes home with her.”

Shuichi and Miu both spluttered for different reasons, faces matching beet red. Kokichi just snickered and skipped around to the television, opening the cabinet underneath it.

“So, Miu, do you wanna play ‘Operation’ until everyone else gets here?” Kokichi asked, blinking innocently.

“What? Why?” from a skeptical Miu, and, “For five hours? Guys…” from an equally confused Shuichi.

Kokichi laughed happily, “I think five hours is cutting it a bit close! Miu’s slutty, pea sized brain is gonna need all the time it can get to fully comprehend the anatomical composition of a male!”

Shuichi rolled his eyes as Miu screeched and launched some unintelligible objection at Kokichi, but couldn’t stop the small grin that rose to his face at the interaction.

\----

Kiibo showed up with a toaster.

“Kii-boy, this is a game night, not an engagement party,” Kokichi scolded as he looked closely at the toaster, “did you  _ build _ this?”

Kiibo scratched his arm, “Miu’s been helping me build some stuff lately, so I thought I would give it to you guys.”

Shuichi spoke up as he took the toaster from Kokichi, “Thanks Kiibs, I-  _ we _ appreciate it. Right, ‘Kichi?”

The latter wore a shit-eating grin and winked at Shuichi before saying, “Sure, sure, as long as you cleaned it off after you and Miu had sex over it.”

Shuichi would have hit his roommate with said, conveniently-present toaster had the doorbell not rung at that exact moment. Saved by the bell, in college? Kokichi was lucky.

“Hey, sidekick! Oh, nice toaster,” Kaito grinned with a thumbs-up as soon as he walked through the door. Kokichi saluted Maki, who growled her signature, ‘do-you-wanna-die?’

The TV played some popular live action show, creating accomodating background noise to the little ‘zaps’ coming from Miu and the Operation board. 

\----

Rantaro was the last to show up- fashionably late, he might say. And certainly fashionable, Shuichi thought, with little silver piercings hanging from his ears, high rise baggy jeans, a Prince tee, and a patterned blue-orange-green windbreaker. Other accessories like a belt hanging across his waist and a chain necklace positioned along the t-shirt added to the overall effect. Shuichi felt slightly small in his graffiti-print tee/cargo, before reminding himself that he was hosting a game night, not a highschool sleepover where fashion was everything. College, Shuichi. You’re in college.

“How’s it hangin’, ‘Ichi?” Rantaro held up his hand for a high five. Shuichi smiled self-consciously and caught the gesture halfway.

“Hi Rantaro, I’m good. How are you?” Rantaro’s hand was warm. Shuichi’s anxiety was slightly subdued, and he smiled as Rantaro greeted the others with ease. While Rantaro strode up to Kokichi, Shuichi’s eyes caught the purplenette’s. Kokichi looked from Shuichi to Rantaro quickly, almost imperceptibly, before pasting a mischievous smile on.

Rantaro’s yelp of surprise resounded as Kokichi pinched him. Shuichi turned his attention to the rest of his friends, who were talking amicably - Kiibo was explaining the toaster in animated gesticulation. Stepping into the kitchen to pull out some of the food he had prepared, Shuichi took the customary ‘I-don’t-need-to-have-anxiety-over-something-like-this’ deep breath. Tonight was to be fun.

\----

Maki walked back into the room after taking a phone call from her boss, and was met with slight chaos, “What’s going on?”

Kaito stopped laughing to lean over, “Amami is absolutely  _ crushing _ Shuichi at Mario Kart.”

“It’s because he picked Yoshi. Who the hell plays  _ Yoshi  _ in  _ Mario Kart?  _ Fuckin’ emo virgin deserves this loss,” Miu snorted.

Shuichi bit his lip, leaning forward with the controller like that would help him any.

“Someone’s real focused,” Rantaro laughed, breezing through the map.

Shuichi growled in good humor, “I just never expected you to be a pro at  _ Koopa Troopa Beach _ , of all maps- ‘Taro, what the hell?”

A red shell from Rantaro slammed into Shuichi, throwing him back from 3rd place into 6th. Huffing at the dizzy animation, Shuichi steadied the steering wheel, (as best he apparently could) and drove directly into the ocean. Even Kiibo groaned in sympathy.

After driving in the wrong direction, receiving a bullet boost, and using the little mushroom helpers, Shuichi was in second place again. He nudged his elbow into Rantaro’s side, eliciting a surprised jolt from the green-haired man, and took first place at the end of the third lap. Rantaro dropped his controller and looked at Shuichi with his jaw dropped in a slight smile. Shuichi looked over from the screen flashing ‘1st place’ and gave an innocent little wave. 

“Ohohoho,” Rantaro laughed, “Detective plays dirty!” Shuichi grinned while Rantaro mussed with his hair, scolding him playfully for cheating. Everyone else laughed at the display, and Shuichi turned his head, face scrunched in laughter, while Rantaro dove, bowling Shuichi over and faux-wrestled with him.

“Cheater,” Rantaro accused with a dopeuy grin, “and admit it.”

Shuichi yelped as Rantaro dug his hands into his armpits, “Eep- yes, okay! Yeah! Cheater, I call Uncle. Taro-  _ Uncle!” _

Once Shuichi had dissolved into laughter, Rantaro relented, and stretched his arms above his head to crack his shoulders. The green-haired man hopped up from the couch, looking around at everyone else, who was grinning in some way or another.

“You killed him,” Miu said proudly. Rantaro scratched the back of his neck and looked over at Shuichi, who was flopped on the couch, recovering.

“I didn’t  _ kill _ hi-”

“You killed me,” Shuichi called in a childish groan. Rantaro shook his head and laughed before walking over and sitting next to Kokichi.

“Well, aren’t you the life of the party,” Kokichi grumbled with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Rantaro looked at him for a second before his smile was knocked down a notch.

“If you’re gonna go pout, at least do it while playing against him in a video game,” he replied. Kokichi’s smile slipped away instantaneously. Rantaro watched the purplenette get up wordlessly and make his way over to Shuichi. The detective jolted into a sitting position as Kokichi sat down on his legs.

“Kichi- ow, those are my knees,” Shuich complained lightly, shifting so that Kokichi wasn’t breaking his legs. Not that Kokichi weighed more than 130 pounds, realistically.

“Pick a map, detective,” Kokichi yawned. Shuichi reached around Kokichi with his left hand to hold the remote in both hands.

“Hm. Rainbow Road,” Shuichi picked. Always one to go for the classics. Kokichi scoffed but clicked through the menus to the requested map.

“Careful, pull him any closer and you’ll have an abortion in your lap,” Miu called with shark grin. Kokichi stuck his tongue out at her and Shuichi exhaled pointedly.

“He was the one who decided to sit on my knees. If I’m going to have broken bones, I should at least be able to hold the remote well,” Shuichi replied, resting his chin on Kokichi’s closer shoulder and faux-shrugging at Miu. She just looked at Rantaro, who looked back with a (mirrored) strange expression.

“Alright Saihara, games on,” Kokichi huffed. Shuichi turned his attention back to the TV as best he could.

“Let’s not get cocky with the surnames until someone wins or loses, hm?”

\----

Kokichi ended up annihilating Shuichi.

“What were you expecting? You picked one of the easiest maps to fall off of, and you can’t even stay on track during Koopa Troopa beach,” Kokichi gloated. Shuichi shrugged and grumbled something like ‘you usually go easy on me.’

Kaito got to his feet once the cup results had played through, “Alright, it’s getting to that time of day where I have the urge to destroy my fiance at Wii Tennis.”

Maki scoffed, and Kokichi laughed, “Is this a new kink or something?” A collective groan/sigh/do-you-wanna-die resounded, and Kokichi shook harder with hilarity. Shuichi took the remote from Kokichi’s hands and handed both over to Kaito.

“Here, Kichi get up so they can sit down-”

Kaito looked offended, “Hey man, I don’t know who the hell you are, but you should  _ know _ that Wii Sports must be played standing up.”

Maki groaned and made a grabby gesture for the remote. Kaito handed it to her.

“Simp,” Kokichi laughed. Rantaro choked (pointedly?) on a tortilla chip, and Kokichi stopped laughing. Shuichi, having zoned out on the Wii Sports loading screen, blinked.

“Oh, okay. Here, I’m gonna scoot back so that other people can sit on the couch if they want too,” Shuichi mumbled, moving himself and Kokichi back towards the arm of the couch. Kokichi ended up climbing around fully into his lap.

“If I need to pee, you are gonna have to get off,” Shuichi grumbled. Kokichi nodded silently, and Shuichi scrunched his face against the flyaways that hit his face. If Kaede, whom Shuichi had loved and cherished, was rarely allowed to sit on Shuichi’s lap because he disliked the hair in his face, then Kokichi probably knew to what extend Shuichi was annoyed. The only thing keeping Shuichi from politely asking Kokichi to get up was their friends, and Shuichi’s resolution to not be a wet-towel, anxiety-filled, obsessive-compulsive weirdo. His friends had seen him be all of those things at some point, but still.

“Why does your Mii look like that,” Maki deadpanned.

Kaito scratched the back of his neck, “Uhh, I think Ouma made it.” Maki turned and glared at Kokichi, who shot back a brilliant smile and a Kaito-esque thumbs up.

The idle animation caused Shuichi to snort as he looked at the Mii. Really it was outrageous. Somehow, Kokichi had managed to find the biggest forehead possible, and push all of the Mii’s features down to the chin so that it looked like some kind of wild pig. The purple-red hair was the only tell that it might have been based off of Kaito.

“Cold, man. Real cold,” Shuichi said quietly to Kokichi. At this, the purplenette laughed under his breath, biting his lip so that Maki didn’t side-kick him in the head for mockery of her boyfriend. Fiance? Whatever.

The soft music from the tennis game and little ‘pop’s sounded off the digital rackets. Kaito and Maki were silent save for their clothes swishing and their feet stepping across the floor to hit the phantom tennis balls. Rantaro and Miu were talking in hushed tones, and Shuichi felt Kokichi fading slightly.

“Should we order food soon?” Shuichi asked gently. Kokichi nodded, and Shuichi pulled out his phone. Kaito grunted as he reached for a flyball and slumped over as he missed. Maki straightened, clearly pleased, and turned to Shuichi.

“I don’t care what Kaito says, if you order pineapple on the pizza, I will invert your limbs.” Shuichi blinked, processing. The room took a pregnant pause before breaking into chaos.

“Pineapple pizza is the mark of a virgin!”

“If you aren’t able to stomach pineapple on pizza, I am so much more hesitant to roll with you.”

“Wha- Maki! Pineapple is so good- Sidekick, back me up!”

“I think it’s cool and gorey that pineapple eats you back!”

“Actually, since the pineapple is cooked, the acidity of the pineapple is much tamer, so-”

“Shut up, robo-dick.”

“... I’ll just order two pizzas.”

\----

An hour later, everyone had been pacified with a preferred slice of pizza, and Miu had found the alcohol. Shuichi watched her open a whiteclaw with a defeated stare, resolutely ignoring Kokichi’s pleading gaze.

“Just keep your clothes on this time, Miu,” Kiibo said offhandedly. 

Kokichi looked back at Kiibo and rolled his eyes, “If she gets drunk off of a  _ whiteclaw _ I’ll be really disappointed.

Miu scoffed, inspecting the label before starting to drink. Tame music made its way from the living room speakers, Rantaro on DJ duty.

“I know it’s video game night, but I do have Candyland right here and I was thinking-” Shuichi started, reaching for a box that was suddenly in Kokichi’s arms.

“I’ll set it up,” Kokichi declared. Kiibo groaned, and Miu started to cough. Kokichi looked around the dark room, faux-bewildered.

Shuichi scratched his head, “Listen, Kichi, I don’t think people want you to be the one to set up.” Kokichi’s expression pulled into indignation as he focused back on Shuichi.

“You always cheat, man. At  _ Candyland _ . Like, seriously?” Rantaro yawned. Kokichi let his surprised expression fall before smiling.

“How about you all  _ watch _ me set the game up, so there’s absolutely no way I can pull anything?”

Shuichi took a deep breath to relax his shoulders and mumbled, “I feel like that’s even more suspicious.” Kokichi rolled his eyes and dropped onto the floor, criss-cross applesauce.

“... Where’s Queen Frostine?”

“Shut the fuck up tits, you’re ALWAYS Queen Frostine. Be the gingerbread man for once, damn.” Rantaro tugged on a piece of Kokichi’s hair warningly at his snappish tone. Miu glared at Kokichi before beginning to search the box for her character.

A comfortable silence settled over the the group as the game somehow set up amidst the chaos of reaching arms and yawning college students.

\----

“So technically, you won by  _ default _ ,” Kiibo finished, arms crossed in defense to the pink haired ‘maniac’ in front of him. Miu deigned to fume slightly, but brushed off Kiibo’s sourness in favor of revelling in her victory.

“See,” Kokichi started with a yawn, “I don’t cheat.” Purple hair whipped around to look at who coughed beside him.

Stopping his fake cough, Kaito grinned, “You just didn’t cheat  _ this time _ . S’why you lost.” Kokichi threw his hands up in exaggerated exasperation, begging the popcorn ceiling of the apartment what he had done to deserve this.

“Cheat,” Maki responded quietly. Kokichi’s mouth clicked shut and he slowly tilted his head down to look at Maki. She raised her eyebrows in challenge, and Kokichi’s fist slowly raised to Maki’s eye level. His other hand came up and mimed winding a music box, before his middle finger sprang up and he feigned surprise. Before Maki could lunge, Kaito wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her back into his lap. She deflated, but left the silently laughing Kokichi with a lingering glare.

“I will be playing Zelda now,” Rantaro declared as he turned the television back on, along with Kokichi’s prized switch. Shuichi had caught him polishing it a few times - which would have been sort of understandable, had the polishing cloth not been a Rubio’s napkin that Kokichi insisted they save, ‘for the environment.’

Maki and Kaito had dissolved into the kind of quiet conversation that comes with a long-time lover, and Kiibo was guiding Miu to the balcony- or maybe he was guiding her away from the alcohol and the balcony happened to be in that general direction. Shuichi sighed and looked back around to find Kokichi pulling softly at a stray string on the carpet. Not dramatically but certainly abruptly, Shuichi was pulled back into something akin to deja vu, watching a little Kokichi (more little than now) play with the hem of his pant cuffs. The deja-vu-Kokichi had one leg pulled up on his chair, and was speaking very fast, very confidently, about some ‘grand escapade’ he had pulled off in class that day. The extravagant titling of Kokichi’s success in tricking the teacher into drawing something phallic on the board in permanent marker was not lost on Shuichi. He listened, though, because that was his role. One that he didn’t mind playing, not as long as it was Kokichi speaking. Maybe he would have minded if it was someone else.

Deja-vu-Kokichi looked up at Shuichi with those bright, expectant eyes, and Shuichi realized he hadn’t registered a word of what the boy had said for the past three seconds.

“Well?”

Shuichi ducked his head slightly, “Uh, sorry I zoned out. Repeat?” When Shuichi looked back up, it was the real Kokichi shaking his head in very mild and very fake irritation.

“I asked you to carry me to the bedroom and tuck me into bed, Mom,” Kokichi repeated with a stone-cold face. Shuichi blinked for a moment before getting to his feet and walking over to Kokichi. Laughter broke the stoic expression Kokichi had been wearing, before a tiny shriek escaped as Shuichi bent down to actually pick him up. Kokichi rolled away and laughed more, now with his face to the floor. Shuichi sat down and placed his arms on his raised knees, smiling.

“Bedtime, son,” Shuichi said in his most stern voice. Kokichi rubbed his hands down his face.

“Is that what it’s like to have a mom?” he asked through the additional bubbly laughter. Shuichi dropped the ‘Mom’ voice and considered. Maybe for a little too long, if the way Kokichi’s laughter drifted into something more quiet was anything to go by.

“I always imagined it might have been something like this,” Shuichi pulled Kokichi in for a hug. A lifetime of excruciating seconds passed by before Kokichi relaxed into Shuichi’s hold.

“Seems overrated,” Kokichi grumbled into the television-lit air around the living room. Shuichi laughed and dropped his head onto Kokichi’s, who moved to play with Shuichi’s sleeve hem rather than the carpet.

“I hope my mom doesn’t try to touch me when I meet her,” Shuichi said after a while, to nobody in particular. The small percentage of nobody in particular that happened to be close enough to hear and caring enough to listen turned his head to look at the wall.

“She’ll probably be too grossed out by the fact that you live with me, and not want to get infected with ‘fag disease’ or something,” came the scoffed reply. Shuichi scowled.

“She’ll have to watch herself and how she talks about you, or I will be the one to sever contact for the rest of our  _ lives _ . Also, I definitely came out to her before hanging up, so there’s that. I sent them the details for lunch but I’m not too sure they’ll actually show up.”

Kokichi pulled away from Shuichi enough to turn around, “You told the woman with the ability to ruin your life, the women who  _ had been fucking homophobic  _ on the same phone call, that you’re not straight?”

Shuichi didn’t say anything.

“Are you fucking stupid?”

Kokichi watched what he could see of Shuichi’s eyes, now drawn to the floor rather than Kokichi’s face. Kaito and Maki hadn’t noticed anything strange, and Rantaro’s tongue was caught between his teeth in concentration on a particularly difficult shrine. Kiibo and Miu’s forms were silhouetted on the apartment balcony, with Kiibo pointing at something in the distant view.

None of them would have noticed Kokichi radiating with anger, because he wasn’t. When Shuichi looked up, it was to Kokichi’s classic, perfectly blank face.

“What?”

Kokichi’s face didn’t twitch, but he went to pull his hand away from where it was resting on Shuichi’s pant leg.

“Kokichi,” Shuichi started, confused, “I didn’t think you’d care? I mean, it’s  _ me _ , and it really won’t affect you if-”

“Won’t affect me? Are you kidding me? You’re stupid  _ and _ selfish?” Kokichi asked. Shuichi stopped speaking to gape at Kokichi. Before the detective could open his mouth to continue, the door to the balcony squeaked.

“I think we should get going,” Kiibo sighed, “she’s starting to get loopy.” Miu giggled and stumbled into Kiibo, who managed to catch her gracefully. It took Shuichi a minute to process, still reeling from Kokichi’s sudden shift in mood.

“Uh, yeah… Yes. Yeah! Okay, that’s fine. I understand. Thank you for coming, it was very nice!” Shuichi tripped over his words. Kiibo smiled and nodded to Shuichi, while Kaito stretched mildly.

“I agree, bro. Me and  _ Maki _ better get _ roll _ in’. Haha, see what I did there, babe?” Maki glared at her fiance, completely unaware of the smile playing on her lips.

The video game noises cut abruptly to pause menu music, and Rantaro stretched.

“If the lovebirds are leaving, I might as well. Wouldn’t want to third wheel,” he said as he pulled the hem of his shirt back down slightly.

Shuichi felt the air around Kokichi go sour.

“Like I wouldn’t be the one third wheeling,” Kokichi spat. Rantaro’s eyes widened a fraction, but he only responded with a silent, stale smile.

Maki apparently took the awkward silence as her cue to tug Kaito along to the door, where Kiibo was trying to coax Miu into letting go of him just enough for him to grab the door handle. Shuichi figured Kokichi wasn’t about to say goodbye like normally, so the former stood up and made his way to the door for Kiibo.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but knock off the attitude, okay?” Rantaro’s calm, quiet voice caught in Shuichi’s ears as he walked away. Kokichi said something in response, but it was murmured and lost in the thick apartment air.

“Knock it off,” was the last thing Shuichi caught, from Rantaro, before he lost the entire exchange completely.

“Here Kiibo, let me get that for you,” Shuichi twisted the doorknob and allowed the slicing night air to pour into the apartment. Kiibo smiled gratefully, and a flurry of ‘goodbye’s, and, ‘see you later’s, and ‘thank you’s ricocheted off the door frame, to the handrailing outside, across the surface of the metallic air, back into Shuichi’s ears along with the closing click of the door.

Once Rantaro was out, Shuichi turned back to wait because ‘one more, there’s still someone missing, Kaede, what’s taking so long,’ and for a split second, the shock of seeing only Kokichi there poured like ice into his veins. Kokichi, who was illuminated by the moonlight through the balcony. Kokichi, who’s arms might break if he carried something too heavy. Kokichi, who seemed to be looking at Shuichi without really wanting to see him at all.

“Hey, so,” Shuichi started, taking an awkward step forward. Kokichi’s expression crumbled into something even more shuttered, and he turned on his heel to disappear down the hall.

‘Forget it,’ the wind that might have been roaring outside seemed to whisper inside the apartment. Shuichi didn’t move for a while, listening to the fading footsteps down the hall, and the faint squeak of a mattress with a sullen body falling onto it.

Before the beams of light from the window could take the blurred shape of Kaede Akamatsu, Shuichi lowered his head and made his way to his own room. After shutting his door quietly, Shuichi turned around and straightened.

On one hand, he could apologize the next morning, since Kokichi would be home for their day off. That plan ran the risk of an apology not being accepted because it was made too soon, and then Shuichi would have to wait  _ longer _ before apologizing again so that Kokichi didn’t think he was being fake. On the other hand, he could wait the extra few days to see if Kokichi would come around on his own. Highly improbable, but the less problematic option. Either way, sleeping on it was the first thing Shuichi needed to do. The detective pulled his phone out of his pocket to plug it in for the night. As he went to clear the notifications, his thumb paused over a little green icon.

Spotify: [user54244 added a song to a playlist you’re following.]

Shuichi yawned and pulled the earbuds from his dresser drawer. What a quaint little routine he was setting, he thought idly. Him and his mystery person. Shuichi tried not to let himself picture what an anonymous person might look like. Or sound like. Or do anything like, really. Logically, Shuichi knew that the chances of the person living up to his expectations were extremely low. Not that he really  _ had _ any expectations. If Shuichi’s life were a shoujo manga, and he were to have a meet-cute with a (borderline obsessive?) fan that was slowly gaining his interest with an anonymous playlist, it probably wouldn’t sell very well. Then again, it was nice to dream about being liked once in a while. Shuichi stayed away from anything deeper than that. If he were being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that kind of admission. 

So Shuichi tapped into the Spotify app and leaned back against the wall. The new song was titled ‘Video Games,’ and the moment Shuichi clicked on it, a grin spread across his lips. An upbeat cover of Lana del Ray’s song graced the silent room. If Kokichi could hear Shuichi dancing like an idiot in his room to a remastered version of his childhood celebrity crush’s song, he didn’t care enough to complain. The song slowly built, and Shuichi grabbed his hairbrush, rocking his shoulders in front of his mirror. A perfect mic switch-toss from his left hand to his right, executed with a hair toss. Shuichi nearly laughed into the precious, silent apartment. Sure: his dancing was making little thumps on the floor, and the swishing of his clothes was loud enough to be heard, but with his music turned up past half volume, blaring into his ears at nearly 10:30pm, Shuichi Saihara let his anxiety flood out, away, under the door, through the gaps in the insulation, up past the rooftops, away into the crevices of the moon where someone else might handle it.

\----

Kokichi stared unblinkingly at the ceiling of his room, splayed out on the comforter. The muffled sounds of jumping, swishing, and huffed laughter came from Shuichi’s room. It sounded rhythmic, almost like he was dancing. Well shit, Kokichi thought, maybe he was dancing to the playlist. Wouldn’t that be simply romantic as fuck. The part of Kokichi’s brain that usually held the reigns was bellowing for him to walk in, tease the detective, maybe watch him have his moment of unabashed happiness.

Unfortunately, the part of Kokichi’s brain that festered anger and hurt until they clouded his vision was holding a glock to anyone that tried to take back control. Someone from somewhere at somepoint had told Kokichi that, ‘we get the angriest at those we love the most,’ and if the stupid playlist was anything to scale the Kokichi-Whipped-o-Meter by, then Kokichi was absolutely downright  _ fuming _ . Way past the point of coherent thoughts and actual rebuttals that Kokichi would like to scream at Shuichi, the kinesiologist turned onto his side and exhaled a silent scream.

‘Fuck you, Shuichi,’ Kokichi thought as the man in question made his performance to a mirror and an empty room. Kokichi repeated it to himself over and over, eventually succumbing to sleep as Shuichi wiped the smile-tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes and fell back onto his bed on an adrenaline-high.

\----

The playlist maker was going to be the death of him, Shuichi thought sleepily.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so like i'm never on time but the promise to finish this fic still stands. im back :)  
> \----  
> my tumblr: plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com  
> my ask box is always open: https://plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com/ask


	6. i was an island - john-allison weiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout, recovery, lunch <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter?? its been a day?? yeah. im making up for lost time. ill do formatting tmrw its almost midnight rn anyway ENJOY THIS QUICKLY EDITED/SKIMMED TRAINWRECK <33

Kokichi woke up to air that had settled over his room like a light snow. He yawned, stretched, and sat up abruptly once the anger and indignance from the night before flooded back. ‘I came out to my mom,’ Shuichi had said. ‘Are you stupid?’ Kokichi remembered vomiting back at him. A train of thoughts approached Kokichi from behind, fast, and the kinesiologist dodged before they could slam into the back of his cranium. Pulling on a lazy outfit and an even larger windbreaker, Kokichi was out the door with a black baseball cap being tugged onto his head and the keys jiggling in the lock before Shuichi could even crack an eye open.

The morning felt like a lemon being scrubbed on a piece of cheesecloth, and water in a glass so clear that you could see the other side of the table through it. Kokichi walked like there was someone tailing him, nearly running to the arcade. Pac-Man wouldn’t try to psycho-analyze his problems while holding his hand in the early morning light. Pac-Man was forever. Waka-waka, thank you very much. Kokichi shuttered every thought in his mind except for left, up, right, down, ghost, cherry, good job.

After beating his high score for the fifth time, Kokichi stepped away from the machine. A familiar-looking silhouette stood leaned against a racing machine, illuminated by the Dodo Jump machine. Kokichi froze, and nearly panicked when the figure walked towards him. A light breeze washed against Kokichi’s jacket as the stranger walked past him. Kokichi allowed himself to release a breath once the person had disappeared from his field of vision. Not Shuichi, his mind relieved. After making his way to a table near the food court, Kokichi sat down and placed his phone face down on the counter. The sounds of games and conversations and ticket machines spitting out their currency all blended into a nice hum, like a bee around Kokichi’s ears that could never be swatted. It fostered a warm, safe atmosphere, and Kokichi’s inevitable train of thought came across the tracks.

*

_ Kokichi was in middle school again, standing in the kitchen in front of his mom. The picture was messy, blurred in every place except for the twisted, knotted disgust on her face. _

_ ‘Boys?’ She had asked. Kokichi nearly opened his mouth, but didn’t. The smoke on her breath drifted into his face, and he forced it into a smooth, calm mask against the smell. _

‘You’re _ a boy,’ She had said. As if Kokichi needed to be reminded of his gender. Maybe he should have been born a girl. Maybe then he wouldn’t had to have come out all, _

_ ‘Wrong,’ She had called it. Kokichi watched, frozen in place as she stood up and walked closer to him. She pulled the ashtray closer and jammed the cigarette into it, holding Kokichi’s eyes firmly. _

_ Kokichi hadn’t meant to flinch. _

*

He should probably order something, Kokichi thought to himself. He stood up and walked over to the counter to ask for a water and something with calories.

*

_ If Kokichi had needed emotional support after his and Rantaro’s middle school breakup, even if he had been a girl, Kokichi knew he wouldn’t have received any from his mother. His mother, who he couldn’t respect and couldn’t hate. _

_ ‘I brought you something,’ she would say, walking through the door a day or so after one of their incidents. Kokichi would pull himself from his room, the only possible barrier between himself and his mom. Maybe if he wasn’t an only child there would have been a buffer. Maybe if his dad had stayed there would have been someone to play middle-man. _

_ ‘Why are you laughing?’ she would ask innocently. Dread would shoot through Kokichi’s veins. ‘Nothing,’ he would lie. Always lying. Always lying to a mother who knew when he wasn’t telling the truth. _

_ The memory jumped and a heavy backhand came across Kokichi’s face. _

*

He blinked, hearing the food court worker call his name for the order.

*

_ Kokichi’s mom didn’t yell when he was growing. Kokichi’s mom had never yelled, all the until his dad came back. It was a Saturday, he couldn’t manage to forget, because that was the day his mom would be out of the house, and he would be in his room, away from the curdling smell of cigarettes and the danger of playing ashtray. Highschool was difficult. Not in terms of classes, but rather in terms of convincing his friends that they couldn’t go to his house for a different reason every week. Kokichi Ouma did not accept pity. So when his mother had walked in with another voice beside her, Kokichi’s brain had screeched to a halt. _

_ His dad had looked everything like Kokichi had wanted. His tie was well tied, his clothes looked as if they had been pressed hours before, even his shoes were polished. It made Kokichi sick. _

_ ‘Are you my son’s friend?’ his dad had said to him. Fourteen years, and it was the first thing his father directed to him. _

_ ‘No,’ he had said, ‘Dad, it’s me.’ Watching his father try to keep his face from falling in disappointment was something that stuck with Kokichi for weeks, months after that night. _

_ ‘Why is your hair like that?’ was the second thing. Kokichi reached up to tug at a piece of his long, purple hair. _

_ ‘Are you trying to be a girl?’ _

_ Maybe, Kokichi wanted to scream. Maybe it’s easier to pretend I’m a girl, so that when I fail to be what my mother wants, she can pretend I’m normal when she looks at me from behind. _

_ ‘No,’ Kokichi had said again. His dad looked over at his mom, who was staring at him with the same expression she wore every time she brought home a little present after gracing Kokichi with another circle-shaped scar the night before. _

_ Something deep inside of Kokichi had twisted, then, once his father moved on from him like Kokichi was just another disappointing piece of furniture in his ex’s house. _

_ Echoed words from his parents’ conversation like ‘bastard’ and ‘homosexual’ thumped into Kokichi’s head from behind as he made his way up the stairs calmly. His heart beat erratically in his chest, propelling him towards his closet, and his frayed little travelling bag.  _

_ Kokichi’s dad was standing on the porch as his son walked out. Kokichi didn’t speak, nor did his father. Their eyes met silently, and then his father turned back to the left, focusing on the phone in his hand while Kokichi’s feet clodded across the muddy sidewalk, away from his house. Once he had made it out of the residential street, Kokichi scrolled through his contacts to call one Shuichi Saihara. _

*

Kokichi stood up and threw away his untouched food. The arcade was suddenly stifling.

\----

Monday came with the promise of school, and for that Kokichi was grateful. His thoughts from the day before had faded and mixed into his dreams until Kokichi was worn and sick of trembling under his covers. He stopped himself from walking out to the main rooms, lest he run into the object of his anger. Who, speaking of, had left without the car keys, which meant he probably took the bus, and Kokichi was left with their-  _ Shuichi’s _ car. 

The corners of his mouth pulled into a frown as he jammed the key into the ignition and revved the engine. What if you crashed it? His mind whispered. Seemed a little extreme, Kokichi decided as he shook away the intrusive thoughts. In all honesty, Kokichi wasn’t too sure if Shuichi had left the car out of kindness or spite. 

If he really thought it was the latter, though, Kokichi would have taken the train as well.

And then Kokichi was at school, walking through the door like normal, decidedly  _ not _ wondering why Shuichi was the one avoiding Kokichi when the latter was the one angry at the former. His eyes were drawn to those walking with entwined hands, or those fading into the corners with someone who was clearly as comfortable showing affection in public as they were. Kokichi blinked hard against the highschool-esque idealization of, ‘if only I were a girl, this might have been so much easier.’ If only he had been Kaede. Shuichi wouldn’t have had to come out to his mother if Kokichi had been normal, the standard, like Kaede. Hell, Shuichi didn’t even come out because he was in a  _ relationship _ with Kokichi. The detective was too overprotective for his own good, sometimes, and one of these days it was going to destroy Shuichi’s future, his connection with Kokichi, or both. 

Kokichi scrubbed at his eyes as he walked into his first period and made his way to the middle-back row. The day would either fly by or crawl, and Kokichi was certain there was no inbetween.

It turned out that not only did Monday crawl, but the rest of the week did as well. On Tuesday, Kokichi pinched himself to stay in his room. The anger had ebbed slightly, but Kokichi was as stubborn as an ox, and refused to give in to whatever game Saihara was playing. And so, when Shuichi took the train again, Kokichi made his way to the car alone for the second time that week.

By Wednesday, there’s almost a tense, avoidant routine. At least, that’s what Kokichi felt. Seeing as he  _ wasn’t _ seeing Shuichi at  _ all _ , from leaving fifteen minutes after him in the morning to staying at school late and ordering dinner until he went home to his room immediately, Kokichi felt the cold palms of isolation’s hands press against the sides of his head. Something about it made Kokichi sick. It was almost as if he was living with his mother, except without someone warm at school who figuratively embraced him daily and allowed Kokichi to ‘escape’ whatever it was he was running from that particular morning. Kokichi knew, on some level, he was being dramatic, and anyone else he wanted to talk to was a phone call away, but if he were to call Rantaro and be chewed out for ignoring Shuichi… Kokichi didn’t want to live through that kind of soul-sucking Rantaro-lecture.

So on Thursday, Kokichi bit back the bile in his throat and went to school with an empty heart and stomach. 

And just like that, as he walked from the university to the outdoor mall near campus, Kokichi passed a high school. His eyes flitted across the younger students who somehow managed to be taller than him already. A certain girl caught his eye, what with her nervous air and tightly clutched letter. Kokichi watched (feeling a little bit like a creeper) as a decent looking boy approached her with one of his friends, and she presented the letter to him. The boy looked surprised for a moment, and then they were talking, and laughing, and the boy went to hug the girl as if some great acceptance had been made so easily. Kokichi tore his eyes away, ridiculously and irrationally, in mild jealousy. 

He swallowed once he reached a bench near the mall, and sat down to take a breath. Kokichi Ouma, having a panic attack in public, everyone! Never seen before. Not genuinely, anyway. Kokichi scrubbed at his eyes roughly, willing the clawing sensation in his chest to pull back enough for him to breathe properly. Goosebumps spread across his knees painfully, and Kokichi bounced his legs in retaliation. Half-expecting to see people giving him a wide berth while walking past, Kokichi looked up. All that looked back at him was the sun glinting off of the cars in the parking lot. Kokichi scrunched his face up and released it before getting up and starting back towards the college to get the car. The urge to burrow into his bed and not wake up hit him like a truck, and his limbs were suddenly dragging weights full of bees. Kokichi’s hands dove into his pockets, but he walked with his head up. Digging his earbuds out of his bag, Kokichi clicked into Spotify. His private playlists blinked back at him, smiling their little smiles. Kokichi pressed shuffle on a certain playlist, before starting to walk. He barely made it to the end of the street before an aggressively specific song cued. Seriously, Spotify, what the hell are you  _ on _ ? Kokichi’s thumb hovered over the ‘Add to Playlist’ button. Mama didn’t raise him very well, but she sure as hell ain’t raise no bitch. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards slightly as the little check mark played across his screen.

\----

Kokichi closed the apartment door behind him with a small exhale, and turned around to find Shuichi standing with one hand on the doorway. Kokichi’s fingers twitched, but he only pressed his mouth into a blank line and started past Shuichi without acknowledging him.

At this, Shuichi moved jerkily, “Hey- uh, I was thinking we should, like- maybe- I think we need to talk.” Shuichi blinked, wide eyes directed at Kokichi, who shrugged tiredly and allowed Shuichi to walk him into the detective’s room.

  
  


**[About 30 minutes prior]**

Shuichi pulled off his sneakers and walked into the apartment quietly. It seemed a little greyer without Kokichi’s usual after-school gusto. The couch was less soft, the air was less fresh, the floor was a little harder. Shuichi found himself walking to his room to pass the time with his homework. The A/C brazenly roared across the ceiling, flipping the little flyaways from Shuichi’s hair against the settled apartment air. The sound of keyboard tapping interspersed with clicking drifted up along the drafts from the apartment floorboards. Shuichi pulled out a journal for one of his classes, making little notes in it of things that his classmates had referenced in class in regards to the group project. His phone lit up once, but he ignored it in favor of finishing his write-up for what parts of the project he would be doing. Shuichi knew his phone was a distraction, and his Uncle’s discipline towards phones and homework stayed strong in his mind. 

The third time his phone pinged, Shuichi caved and picked it up. The latest message was an automated Twitter promotion, but the second notification…

Spotify: [user54244 added a song to a playlist you’re following.]

Shuichi sighed and pressed ‘Save’ on his notes so far before shutting his school tabs and opening a new one for lyrics. So much for getting a lot of work done that afternoon. Shuichi didn’t necessarily  _ mind _ receiving the songs - if the adrenaline in his veins was anything to go off of, he rather enjoyed it - but it was a bit of a let-down to be fucked up for the rest of the night from running lyrics back and forth in his head. Somehow, the playlist usurped the priority block in the detective’s mind and guided his focus into a funnel that fed directly into ‘overanalyzation of a random, probably meaningless thing from someone I barely even know.’

The song was slightly self-explanatory, although a little strange to be coming from a true stranger. Again, the possibility that the playlist-maker was in one of Shuichi’s classes weighed on his mind. As he read along to the verses, Shuichi relaxed back into his chair. The song seemed to have an underlying theme of dependency, hidden by a love-story cover. It was borderline unhealthy from one perspective, yet at the same time it spoke of lifting walls and boundaries and… letting people in. Shuichi’s thoughts drifted to Kokichi. Who he missed. It had been the longest four days Shuichi had experienced in a long time, and the detective started to feel himself resonating with the singer.

As the last few chords of the song played out, Shuichi came to the decision that he would be executing a previously unconsidered option C from Saturday night’s ‘brainstorm session for plans of action towards the situation with Kokichi’: after waiting several days, Shuichi would breach the apology-line.

\----

Kokichi stood awkwardly in Shuichi’s doorway, too tired to care how he must have looked (small, weak, dumb) while Shuichi sat down carefully in his desk chair.

“I’m… sorry,” Shuichi led. Kokichi jutted his jaw before exhaling and shrugging again.

“S’fine.”

Shuichi blinked. Kokichi almost felt like laughing at the clear shock on his face. Apparently, the detective hadn’t been expecting to be forgiven so easily. Not that Shuichi really had anything to apologize for. If anything, Kokichi should be the one apologizing to  _ Shuichi _ for overreacting and making him feel like shit. Or did he feel like shit? Was the entire time away from Kokichi just easy for Shuichi? Did he react at all, or was it just another type of routine for Shuichi to slip into? Kokichi’s internal struggle was interrupted by Shuichi speaking.

“Are,” a breath, “Are we okay, then?”

Kokichi made a half aborted shrug, then at the intensity of the fear in Shuichi’s expression, a nod.

“Yeah,” he tacked on anxiously. Shuichi let out a huge breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Please don’t do that again,” Shuichi said with his eyes closed, “I thought you were gonna go Mrs. Saihara on me.”

Kokichi huffed, “Yeah, well, that’s exactly what I was mad about. Good job.” Shuichi scratched the button of his nose with his thumb and pursed his lips.

“Is that all you’re going to say or do I get a full explanation?” Kokichi tensed at the underlying question of,  _ ‘Why did you leave?’  _

“I was worried,” Kokichi said slowly, purposefully, “because your mom seems like the type to stir up reporters.”

Shuichi nodded, mulling over the words, when Kokichi continued.

“Also my mom would always,” Kokichi’s voice broke off. Shuichi looked back up sharply at the admission. Kokichi leaned against the door for support, slightly angry with himself for saying something like that to Shuichi, who didn’t need to know how fucked up Kokichi was. Or maybe Shuichi could already tell, and Kokichi was just giving the detective the last pieces of a puzzle before he got bored of it and tossed it out. Shuichi got up and moved to the bed, laying down for a moment before his head fell to the side to look at Kokichi. The kinesiologist watched him for a moment before his legs were moving to bring himself to the edge of the bed.

The mattress dipped as he scooted back up near the pillows, sitting in a sort of upright fetal position.

“My mom used to point out gay couples we saw in public and ridicule them until I asked her to stop.”

Shuichi nodded, eyes lowering from the wall to the bedspread.

“It’s good you asked her to stop, I guess, that means you were standing up to her.”

“Whenever I did ask her to stop, she’d take us directly home just to discipline me for misbehaving,” Kokichi grumbled. Shuichi’s breath stopped for a moment before he spoke.

“Discipline you? Like, for talking back?”

“Yeah.”

Shuichi picked at his bedspread, “Discipline as in…”

“Hiding my medication, slamming my fingers in the door,”

Shuichi opened his mouth and closed it again, realizing Kokichi wasn’t finished.

“Usually though, she’d just hit my head against the wall. On the really bad days she’d put her cigarettes out on my arms.”

Kokichi breathed slowly, unable to tell if he was calm because of nerves or because it felt nice to be telling someone about his mom. 

“Thank you,” Shuichi started, “for telling me,”

“Sure,” Kokichi said quickly. Shuichi’s shaky breath was only a little louder than Kokichi’s heartbeat. His eyes were glued on the door, expecting his mother to be standing on the other side with something in her hands, ready to discipline him for ever telling someone about her.

“Will you. Would you maybe not tell anyone?” Kokichi asked. Shuichi breathed for a moment before answering.

“Yes. Of course, Kokichi. Can I- may I hug you?”

Kokichi didn’t move his eyes from the door for a moment. Shuichi stayed put, apparently waiting for an answer before moving.

“Yeah. You don’t have to ask,” Kokichi said blankly. Warm arms covered him, followed by a solid body. Kokichi sat for a second, unmoving before letting his head fall against Shuichi’s shoulder and tears fall from his eyes.

“I wanted to ask,” Shuichi said into the pillows behind them. Kokichi just cowered further, sure that his face was all scrunched up in ugly, genuine emotion.

“Okay.”

Kokichi felt Shuichi move before he felt the hand start to pet his hair. Something about the way it made him cry harder was comforting, like the dam had been broken but at a point where if it had stayed intact the outcome would have been worse.

“When you came to my house that day,” Shuichi tried, his voice low in his chest.

Kokichi wiped his face on Shuichi’s shirt, trying not to think about the fact that his roommate seemed unbothered by the snot and the tears.

“Did I run away like she said I did? Yeah, but they saw me leave and didn’t stop me. It was more like, I left and they watched me.”

“Like they didn’t care?” Shuichi asked. Kokichi nodded minisculely. The detective’s grip tightened slightly on Kokichi, not hard enough to hurt but sturdy enough to be secure. The clock on the wall ticked timelessly, while Kokichi’s breath rose and fell, smoothing out into a less-hiccupy sort of post-crying calm. Shuichi only stopped playing with Kokichi’s hair when the latter pulled away a few minutes later. Just in case he fell asleep like that.

“Sorry about your shirt,” Kokichi said with a watery laugh. Shuichi looked down at his shoulder and shrugged before pulling the sweater off.

“I don’t mind, Kichi. You’ve done worse,” the detective smiled warmly. Kokichi looked away, afraid he might be burned if he looked into the sun for too long.

“Could we watch a movie,” Kokichi made use of the tears to look extraordinarily pathetic, pulling a laugh from Shuichi.

“Sure, let me grab the remote.”

Once the movie was playing, Shuichi relaxed. He noticed that was Kokichi carefully avoiding touching him for the majority of the night. Not in a disgusted way, but more of a ‘I’ve used up my affection ticket and I should avoid asking for more’ way. Something about having his suspicions of abuse confirmed didn’t make Shuichi feel proud. Or any positive emotion, really. Little things he’d noticed about Kokichi over years of living together suddenly fit into place, made sense. And there was now an anger in Shuichi’s chest reserved for someone who wasn’t his parent but deserved to burn in an even lower circle of hell than his own ever would. Kokichi’s height, body mass index, the way he flinched at abrupt contact. Shuichi clenched his jaw at the movie, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around Kokichi. 

A little past the halfway mark into the movie, Kokichi fell asleep, tipping over against Shuichi’s shoulder. The detective shifted so that Kokichi could actually sleep against him comfortably, and watched the rest of the movie alone save for Kokichi’s soft breathing.

\----

A week later, Saturday, and Shuichi Saihara was in high school again. Not literally, of course, but it certainly felt that way, from how Shuichi couldn’t bring himself to eat anything in the morning. His stomach did flips and flops and a whole damn jazz routine in dread. Kokichi, endearingly enough, had made Shuichi breakfast. Unfortunately, the detective couldn’t eat it in fear of vomiting on the train to his lunch plans with his parents. Just a quaint little family that didn’t know each other at all. Shuichi grimaced as he brushed his teeth for the second time that morning. There would probably be reporters there, so Shuichi wanted to be as put together and calm as possible. Especially since his mother would most likely tear through the first three layers of his calm facade just by saying hello.

Shuichi spent as much time away from the clock as possible, until Kokichi came into his room to tell him that it was, in fact, time for him to leave (whether he wanted to or not, Shumai, I swear on everything I love I will drag you there if I have to-) okay! Okay, Shuichi got it.

Brushing a hand through his hopeless hair, Shuichi stepped over the threshold of the apartment, into the world of Japan that fostered two specific people that Shuichi  _ really _ didn’t want to see.

It was funny, he thought as the train began to move. After years and years of wishing his parents would notice him, would come back to tell him that they actually loved him and- haha! They had been ‘just kidding’: they really wanted to stay with him in Japan, Shuichi was in a position where every part of his body was screaming to stay away from his those two people. Shuichi scrubbed the bottom of his shoe against the floor of the train and pulled a little at his collar. He’d opted for a white-with-black-stripes collared shirt under a MCR black t-shirt, over faded black denim jeans held up by a chain belt. Jeans with rips, of course. Shuichi didn’t want his parents to think he had turned out  _ successful _ or anything. He cracked his knuckles nervously as the train came to a stop, and he stood up to walk.

Shuichi he knew he couldn’t treat this like an investigation. It wasn’t going to be clear cut, there wasn’t any evidence for him to look at, and he was going to have to rely on his own emotions and whatever small amount of wit he had. Obviously there wasn’t the comforting buffer of one Kokichi Ouma either, so Shuichi’s parents would have to deal with the full frontal brute force of their son’s sheer awkwardness. The sun hid behind the clouds and Shuichi envied it’s ability to cower in fear. Instead of doing the same, however, Shuichi took a deep breath and long strides to the fancy restaurant his mother had emailed him the details of the week prior. It was almost sad how Shuichi had been excited to receive an email from his mother like she were some celebrity. The same mother who had made him feel angry, like shit, and there Shuichi was grinning like an idiot because she had reached out to him. Now, walking up to the restaurant front, Shuichi felt nothing but nerves. Surely it wasn’t normal to feel like one was going on live television when he was, in reality, just meeting his parents for lunch. Then again, was anyone really ‘normal’? Once a new type of normal was defined, it was either made into a symbol of conformity, or protested against by those who didn’t conform to it naturally, therefore becoming redefined as a has-been form of normal while the characteristics of the protesters became the new normal, and everything repeated. Shuichi let out a breath as he came to a stop in front of the hostess table. Sure, let’s get philosophical right before one of the most important disasters of your life, Shuichi. Good going.

The hostess smiled, all pretty white teeth, and dark curled hair, and little pink lips, and then Shuichi took five steps to be face to face with Aya Shuichi. Her black hair was tied up in an elaborate bun, and her outfit directly reflected the cold, put together expression on her face. The only thing that cracked the appearance was the warm smile directed at Shuichi. The detective didn’t move for a moment, before smiling back and nodding politely as he walked towards the table. 

“Shuu-chan, it’s absolutely wonderful to see you again. Your outfit is so darling, do come sit down.”

Shuichi cursed internally at the pride he felt from his mother complimenting his outfit. Hadn’t he put it on to disappoint them? He wasn’t sure.

“Hi Aya, Dai. How have you been?” Shuichi asked pleasantly. That seemed to get his mother to click her mouth shut momentarily. This time, it was his dad who spoke up.

“Enough of that. You call us mom and dad,” Shuichi’s father said. Shuichi took a breath, prepared for this.

(“If they try to pull some of that familiar shit, just stick to the ‘you were detached for 16 years’ narrative. Seriously, Shu, don’t let them get to you. You’re worth so much more than how they treated you,” Kokichi had told him firmly.)

“Mom and dad? Why would I call you that?” Shuichi asked mildly, picking up his water. Some new confidence coursed through him at the memory of Kokichi and his practice conversation the night before.

“Because that’s who we are, sweetheart,” his mother drawled. Shuichi just shrugged. The waiter appeared at their table to ask for drink orders. Shuichi watched her eyes widen as she recognized his parents. Very subtly widen, Shuichi noted. She’d likely seen many celebrities come through the restaurant, his parents just being slightly more… worldwide than the rest.

After two classy lemon waters and one root beer had been ordered, Shuichi’s mother turned back to him, resting her chin daintily on her hands.

A little part of Shuichi’s brain held it’s breath, willing her to smile, say something like, ‘Shuichi, we want to hear everything. Tell us everything.’

“I looked more into your social media accounts,” was what came out of her mouth instead. Shuichi winced internally at his own foolish hope.

“Have you?” Shuichi asked. Aya nodded. He glanced over at his father, who was looking around the restaurant lazily. Very apathetic, very fitting with the antithesis of what Shuichi had wished his parents were.

His mother hummed, “Yes, in fact I saw your little responses on that website, too. You aren’t  _ really _ considering liking boys, are you?”

Shuichi made a mental note to block his mother on social media the minute he got home. If he ever made it home. Was it possible to have a heart attack out of frustration? That would certainly give his mother a juicy publicity story. Aya was a savvy woman, Shuichi had gathered from the years of watching his parents through the lens of the public eye. Any publicity seemed to be good in her eyes, even if it were for things that made people hate, spit, growl. People talked, the word spread. It didn’t really matter to Aya Saihara what the ‘word’ actually was. 

“Actually, the gender which someone is attracted to isn’t really something they choose,” Shuichi spoke calmly, “Mom.” He added the last bit as an afterthought, which his mother noticed. Her expression sharpened.

“Well, I just know know my son wouldn’t grow up to be one of those dirty sinners. We taught you better than that, didn’t we honey?”

Shuichi’s dad clicked his attention back to his wife, “Hm? Yes, of course dear. Speaking of, doesn’t that waitress seem a little familiar?”

Aya’s expression molded into something defensive, and Shuichi felt like he was small again, watching the person on the television talk about the women his father had been with that week. Disappointment spread across the surface of his skin, resting on the tips of his fingers.

“Thats- I seriously don’t know how to respond to that. Are you kidding me? Who raised me, Aya? You, or my Uncle? I’ll give you a hint. The answer  _ isn’t _ you,” before his mother could open her mouth to respond, Shuichi continued, “And it’s not sinning. I’m not religious, but neither are you, so I can tell a bad excuse for homophobia when I see one.”

The faint humming from the tables around them added to the tension between the family. Yes, a perfect little family of prodigies and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Shuichi’s mother’s fingers twitched in that oh-so-familiar tell of ‘trying to quit cigarettes’. The disappointment in Shuichi’s chest grew a little more. What had he expected, really, from people who couldn’t have loved their own kid enough to stay.

“I’m sorry we didn’t take you with us,” his mother said with her head bowed. Shuichi smiled with empty hilarity.

“I’m not. I think I’d rather have had this and the wonderful people who raised me than two wack-jobs in the public eye that probably would have ruined my life even more.”

His mother’s eye twitched, and she began unwrapping her utensils.

“Shuu-chan, I don’t appreciate your animosity towards us. We are only trying to right the wrongs that we brought upon you almost two decades ago.”

Shuichi waited for the apology, but it never came. Maybe it never would. Regardless, he took a deep breath and raised his hands in a symbol of truce.

“So, I’m assuming you’re in the process of moving out of your apartment with that… gay friend of yours?” Aya restarted.

“Excuse me?” Shuichi moved his arm to make room for the waiter, who was placing their drinks around the table.

“Sorry honey, let’s order first-”

“No, what?” Shuichi turned to the waiter, “I’m sorry, we need a few more minutes.” The waiter nodded and made their way off. Shuichi turned back to his mother, who was frowning.

“Moving out of the apartment? Why would you even ask that?”

Aya shifted in irritation, “I assumed you’d rethink your current situation after the talk we had. Was I mistaken?”

“Gravely!” Shuichi said indignantly, “I don’t understand how you missed it, but I tried my best to make it very clear last time that I value Kokichi over most people in my life. And frankly, that includes you! He has  _ never _ told me to give someone up in place of him. I think it’s insulting, actually, that you are putting yourself above someone who has been there for me at more stages of my life than both of you combined.”

When he paused for breath, his mother was silent in (angry?) shock.

“You keep saying things like you have the right to actually give me advice. You didn’t even ask how I was, what I’ve been doing. It’s always about who I’m with and how much publicity I have or can give you. Don’t act like it isn’t! I don’t know what I expected. Maybe I expected an apology. Whatever I was expecting, though, I’m pretty sure you have no intention to live up to it. I’m sick of trying to impress you when all you’re doing is looking at the young waitresses.”

Dai pulled his attention back to Shuichi.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you, Dai. Do you know how hard it is to have to hear about what your parents are up to through the  _ television _ ? That fucks someone up, okay? Uncle is a saint, and you guys are so undeserving of everything he has done for you. I’m… I’m not your fucking son. Be honest with yourself. Why are you here? Because I suddenly have a following? That’s great, mom. I’m so glad we had this meeting. Are you okay paying for my drink? I’m leaving. I’m done.”

Shuichi’s mom scratched at the side of her head but gestured for him to leave. Seeing his father exhale in slight relief was the icing on the cake, and Shuichi’s chair was screeching as he shoved it back under the table. The waitress stepped back to allow him to leave. Shuichi didn’t look back, and he somehow still knew that his mother was smiling beatifically at everyone who dared to look at his parents.

At least, if Shuichi was the most disappointing child his parents had ever had, he could also say he was the closest to perfect. Perks of being an only child.

As Shuichi walked out of the mall, a little vendor cart caught his eye. A little purple pair of glass dice hung from the top, and Shuichi’s mind instantly flipped to Kokichi.

“Excuse me,” Shuichi approached the cart employee, who smiled at him and waved, “is the purple dice charm for sale?”

The employee nodded, “Yes, of course! It’s purple imitation moonstone, so it’s 3000 yen. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that’s perfect, I’ll take it,” Shuichi said warmly. The employee nodded and walked around to take the charm off the cart and wrap it in a little pack of tissue paper. Shuichi exchanged his money for the little black bag the employee handed him and thanked them.

So, maybe his afternoon hadn’t been all that bad. It’d be even better once Kokichi saw what Shuichi’d gotten him.

\----

The bright colors of nature blurred into a green-orange painting outside of the train window, and Shuichi let go of the breath he had been holding in his chest for longer than likely healthy. If Shuichi was less sure of his mother’s intrinsic need to feel better than those around her by treating them like charity cases, he might have been worried that he would be in need of a full-time job soon. But he wasn’t, and the exhaustion of fading anger crept into his bones as he waited for the train to reach his stop. The afternoon would soon be evening, and there would be a familiar, loving face waiting for him when he came back to the apartment.

Somehow, even after the lunch had gone just about as expected, Shuichi found it in himself to smile contentedly.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shuichi standing up to his shitty parents is my aesthetic.  
> \----  
> my tumblr: plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com  
> my ask box is always open: https://plaidnutmeg.tumblr.com/ask


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